


Under My Skin

by BeautifulFiction_FMA



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Body Swap, Language, M/M, Sexual Tension, general confusion and anatomy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-03-31
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:38:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction_FMA/pseuds/BeautifulFiction_FMA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The face in that frame was one he knew all right, but it was not the one he had been born with. Body-swap fic.<br/><em>Initially published 2010</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Consciousness came back to Ed slowly, drifting into his head like early morning mist. His mouth tasted of dust and the faintest hint of blood, which was never a good thing, and he checked his senses for clues while he waited for his memory to catch up.

He felt... odd. His right arm tingled in a way that probably meant the Automail was busted beyond repair, and his clothes seemed strange. The more he thought about it, the more subtly _wrong_ everything felt.

Opening his eyes, Ed tried to make sense of what he could see. It was dark, and the room was brimming with gloomy silhouettes that gave nothing away. For a split second, the first rising wave of panic almost drowned him before he remembered where he was.

Some old coot of a State Alchemist had popped his clogs, and Mustang had sent Ed to the empty house to sort out the valuable, life-altering research from the crap. He had been rummaging through the strata of paperwork when his fingertips had touched something metallic and circular, like a plate. Ed had just tugged it free, both hands to the round edge, when Mustang had sauntered in.

He had probably wanted an update or something, but instead the idiot was just in time to get caught up in the shock wave of an array going off. The last thing Ed remembered was the faint look of resigned surprise on Mustang's face before the transmutation wiped the world to white and he had been out for the count.

With a grunt, Ed splayed his hands on the floor, pushing himself up to his knees and shaking his head to try and clear away the cobwebs. Fuck, he felt thick. Normally it took more than a bit of alchemy to slow him down, but now every thought was a creaking, groaning thing in the silence of his skull.

He should probably try and find Mustang, he decided. The smug git had been standing by the door when it happened, and he had been closer to the empty fireplace.

Reality tilted in alarmed confusion as Ed scowled across the room, at last putting his finger on one of the many things that was bothering him. How come he was all the way over here? The open doorway was just behind him, dark and ominous in the twilight, but he had definitely been about ten paces away from it when he had been knocked out. Had someone moved him? Had they taken Mustang in the process? What was going on?

Light, there had to be light: chase away the shadows and all that would be left was the truth. Staggering to his feet, Ed wobbled like a newborn foal, stumbling gracelessly to the wall and groping for the switch to illuminate the room.

As soon as he flicked it, a warm glow bloomed, filling each corner and leaving nothing hidden from view. Yet Ed was not looking at the slew of papers or the stacks of books that littered the floor. His gaze was fixed on his gloved hand, and the familiar, bright red array daubed neatly on its fabric.

Mustang's gloves were on his hands, yet they fit perfectly, as if they had been made to wrap around his fingers. Belatedly, he realised he was also dressed in the familiar blue and gold of the Amestrian military uniform. A long black coat covered most of it, but the fabric should have draped on the floor. Instead they fit perfectly and Ed wondered why someone would go to the trouble to make all of Mustang's clothes the right size for him.

'Someone's just fucking with your head,' he whispered to himself, shoving a hand through his hair. He stiffened in shock when he realised that there was no long, gold ponytail brushing at his shoulders, just short, artful spikes. Dragging down a tuft so that he could squint at it, he realised it was black, and the faint hope that this was just some kind of massive joke guttered like a candle. It seemed a bit extreme for one of Havoc or Breda's pranks, but what other explanation was there?

Looking around, his eyes fell on the mirror over the mantelpiece, and Ed could have sworn he felt his heart stop in his chest. He had wanted to see something, _anything_ familiar in his appearance. The face in that frame was one he knew all right, he had glared at it over a desk often enough, but it was not the one he had been born with.

Mustang's eyes, dark blue and currently widened in almost comical surprise, stared back at him. That perfect, smug face that Ed had wanted to break more than once in his life was now the mask through which he was looking at the world, and Ed reeled with confusion.

This had to be some mistake, some delusion, because he was Ed Elric, and he should not be wearing Roy Mustang's face... or body, for that matter. Ed glanced towards the floor, grimacing when he noticed it seemed further away than usual. His right arm was real, and so was his left leg: flesh and blood, all of him, and he had never felt anything so fundamentally wrong in his life.

At last, he looked back to where he had been standing before, unable to stop the twitch of uncertainty as he saw the body he knew so well lying on the floor. So far it was motionless, Automail hand outstretched and almost, but not quite, touching the metal rim of the lifeless plate.

Ed stepped a little closer, trying to get some kind of grasp on this surreal twist of events. One nagging question would not leave him be, and he pulled a face as he glanced around the room once more. There was no one else there, so where had Mustang gone? Not his flesh and blood body, but the intolerable, annoying, baffling bastard that lived inside it?

There was a logical answer, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind Ed shuddered in horrified disgust. If he was in Mustang's skin, then there was every chance that they had simply switched places.

That realisation was enough to hammer home the truth about what had happened, and Ed felt violated through and through. Someone or something, some kind of transmutation, had ripped him out of his body and put him here instead. Alien blood pumped in his veins, and muscles that had lived a different life controlled his every movement.

Panic made spots of white bloom in the corner of his vision, and Ed took a deep breath, trying not to think about it as he forced himself to focus. 'Concentrate,' he hissed to himself, jolting in surprise when it was Roy's voice that emanated from his lips. Ed sounded just like him, articulate and well-spoken, except that Roy never came across as that angry.

It was enough to jerk Ed into action. First things first, wake up the body on the floor and find out if Mustang was in there. If so, then they could work out how to change things back.

If not... .

Ed swallowed, shaking his head. He could not think about that, because if that body was empty then that meant Mustang was gone. An alchemical accident was not about to take down Roy, least of all one Ed had a sneaking suspicion was his fault.

Stiffly, he moved forward, feeling like he was trying to walk on stilts as he approached the prone figure's side. His knees cracked as he bent down, and Ed grimaced at the sensation, rubbing at his right leg before reaching out a finger and poking doubtfully at the body's left shoulder. It was warm through the fabric of the black jacket, a gentle heat that spoke of life, and Ed let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding.

When there was no response to his prodding, he reached out and rolled the body over. He checked its pulse almost as something to keep his hands busy as he stared down at his own face. Somehow, he had never thought his nose looked quite like that, or that his jaw was that strong. He looked at his reflection with his self-perception tinting his vision and only saw a bit of his father, but now the bastard's likeness was stamped all over his face.

Pushing his anger aside, Ed grabbed at those mismatched shoulders, trying not to notice how clunky and cold the Automail felt even through the jacket, and gave them a hard shake. 'Hey, wake up. Come on, it was just a bit of alchemy.'

The body groaned, a groggy response of the barely concious, and Ed suddenly realised that if Mustang was in there, then he was going to get a worse shock than Ed had done. At least he had been given time to make his own conclusions, Roy was going to open his eyes and find _himself_ kneeling at his side.

'Shit,' Ed muttered, but before he had a chance to move, dark lashes flickered open and gold eyes that reminded him more of Al than his dad gained their focus. He did not even know what to say. All the standard things seemed redundant, and he cleared his throat awkwardly before he asked, 'Mustang, that you?'

'Yes,' Mustang replied as if it were a stupid question. If he had been in the right body it would have sounded cool and condescending, as if it were reality's fault for being wrong. As it was, he said it in Ed's voice, and the effect was rather ruined by the obvious alarm at hearing himself speak.

Ed watched as he went to press his hand to his forehead but, rather than flesh fingertips, he got steel. It had taken Ed months to learn how to use the automail properly, but it looked like those connections were tied in his body, rather than whatever part of him had been transposed. It still moved easily, but that did not do anything to ease Roy's blatant confusion.

'You're in my body,' Ed said, 'and I'm in yours.' He let out a sigh, hating the way it sounded like the world's worst joke. People did not swap bodies. Why would anyone want to? There was something almost perverse about it, and Ed gritted his teeth, trying to disregard the feeling that he was wearing someone else's dirty clothes.

'What –? How–?' Roy stopped, screwing up his eyes and opening them again as if he hoped things would look better the second time around. 'What happened?'

'How should I know?' Ed snapped irritably. 'It's that plate's fault. I didn't do anything to it, and it switched us around!'

Roy blinked at him, and Ed realised that he could see every emotion written clearly in that expression. Either Ed's body was not as good at concealing its feelings, or Roy was too stunned and disoriented to even try, and there was a lot there to hide. Fear and confusion, discomfort and an undeniable kind of curiosity. He was not just looking at Ed now, but analysing him in a critical way, and Ed wondered what Roy thought of his own body from the outside.

'That's –' Roy paused as if to collect his words, and when he spoke again he was undeniably Mustang, no matter what body he was in. 'Start at the beginning, Fullmetal. Tell me everything you can remember.'

Ed rolled his eyes at the command and held out a hand, gripping the automail palm and hauling Roy to his feet. He was not very stable. Normally, Ed would have left the git to fall flat on his face, except that, if he did that, then it would be Ed's nose that broke when he hit the floor. 'You sent me to this pit to sort out the mess. That's all I've been doing all day. Moving paper around and trying to find the fucking floor. I was just getting somewhere when you walked in.'

He nudged the plate with his toe, listening to it rasp on the bare floorboards before flipping it over with his boot. It rattled and rolled before finally coming to rest not far away. The silver polished surface winked in the lamp-light, but its shine was dulled by the intricate array etched in its surface. 'I pulled that out and it went off,' Ed muttered. 'If I'd known what was on it I would have left the stupid thing alone.'

Gingerly, he bent down, picking it up in one hand and examining the design. It was a complicated twist of lines and symbols, the culmination of years of research, and Ed grimaced as he realised it could take just that long to undo its effects.

Worse, there was not much there he recognised. A few elements whispered of things he remembered studying as a kid. There were one or two eerie echoes of human transmutation, yet Ed knew he had not been at the Gate. He felt violated, all right, but not to that extreme. Besides, he would remember its presence, and it would have asked a far worse price than this.

'I don't suppose that, if we activate it, it will just swap us back?' Roy asked hopefully, squinting at the array and rubbing absently at the automail arm like it was causing him pain. It shouldn't be, Ed thought to himself, but maybe it was just the shock to the brain. His arm and leg felt too warm, too weak, too light, and the contrast was nagging at the edge of his mind. If he stopped to think about it, it would drive him nuts. Besides, Mustang could not exactly be pleased to wake up a cripple.

Looking back at the plate, Ed shrugged, ignoring Roy's undignified sound of shock as he put both hands to its edge, touching the lines as firmly as he could. It was a stupid thing to do but, from where he was standing, things could not get that much worse. He was not sure what he expected to happen, but the only sensation he felt was a faint prickling across the skin of his hands, and that could just be the chafe of Roy's gloves against his palms.

An irritated growl rumbled in Ed's throat as he pulled the gloves off with his teeth, shoving them in the pocket of the long coat before replacing his hands on the plate. After a second, he shook his head and held it out to Roy. 'You try. I'm not getting anything.'  
  
Roy reached out with his left hand, rather than his right and, as soon as his fingers closed on the edge, pain shot up Ed's arm. It was like being struck by a snake, and he recoiled instantly, shaking his wrist out in surprise as the plate clattered away. Roy must have felt the same thing, because he was rubbing at his left hand and glaring at the offending object in disgust.

He seemed to have forgotten the awkwardness of the metal arm in his shock, and Ed wished it was as easy for him. His hand had clenched into a fist, an automatic response to the pain, and he shuddered at the slide of sinew over bone. Roy must have noticed, because he grasped Ed's wrist gently, pulling it closer and nudging at curled fingers.

'Let me see, Ed.'

Gently, he tilted Ed's palm towards the light, the automail grasp too light to restrain him. The only sign of any injury was two faint red marks on the heel of his palm, already fading from sight. 'It did something,' he muttered, 'but fuck knows what. You hurt?'

'Only the same as you,' Roy said quietly. 'It took me by surprise. I was expecting the array to activate, not that, whatever that was.' He rubbed his thumb absently over the aching point on Ed's hand, and, this close, Ed was very aware of the shampoo and oil scent of him. Normally he would not have noticed it or paid it any attention, but now it was enough to make him weirdly light-headed.

A shiver that had nothing to do with horror trembled its way down his spine, and his mouth went dry as a familiar, subtle heat sparked beneath his skin. Ed licked his lips, jerking his eyes away from his own profile as he tried not to panic.

He knew this feeling. He was a teenage boy, for fuck's sake, and he knew the tell-tale signs of attraction well enough. He'd stood opposite Roy in the office and tried to hide his want enough over the past year to know what was happening, but that was when Roy looked like this: dark and smug behind his desk, not golden and familiar at his side.

Why was it happening now?

He went to pull his hand away, but he need not have bothered. Roy dropped it hurriedly, taking a faltering step back and running a hand through his hair. That only served to loosen the ponytail further, and Ed made a fist again as his fingers itched to brush the tendrils back from Roy's face. This should not be happening. Ed was not a narcissist. There was nothing attractive to him about the body he had been born with, so why the hell was he reacting like this?

Roy had gone bright red with something that could have been embarrassment. The only way to stop that was to get angry, but he had no more idea how to control Ed's body than Ed did Roy's, and instead he turned away, pretending to glance around at the mess. 'There must be a way to undo what's happened. Can't you make sense of it?'

'Not with your stupid brain,' Ed muttered, raising an eyebrow as Roy bristled, visibly angered. Yet when he spun around there was a hint of alarm in his face, like he was tied to a team of wild horses he had no idea how to tame, and Ed could not stop the smirk crossing his lips. The bastard spent so much time pissing him off with just a few words, now he could have a taste of his own medicine.

Roy growled, arms folded and eyes almost spitting sparks. 'Not everyone can be a socially challenged genius, Ed, and if you're not good for working this out, then what use are you?'

Ed snarled, shocked by the flare of anger Roy's remark sent surging through him. It was not a physical, visceral thing burning through his muscles and darkening his vision with its rage. It was a cool, disdainful kind of fury, and Ed had to admit that he was surprised Roy had a temper at all. He always seemed so calm, but now it turned out that every time they fought there was something restrained there, snapping and snarling behind facades that Ed had neither the skill or inclination to use.

'Why don't do your own dirty work for once?' he demanded, and Roy's angry voice in his throat sent a thrill of exhilaration through him like an animal scenting freedom. 'And just because I don't fuck everyone I meet doesn't make me socially challenged. This body's probably diseased! If I catch anything from you I'll....'

'You'll what?' Roy yelled, his words shaking a little with his fury. 'Break my face? You couldn't even reach you're so short.'

' _You're_ so short,' Ed said smugly before he realised what he had just said. 'I am _not_ short you little....'

Over by the doorway, someone cleared their throat. It was a polite and somewhat baffled sound that had all the effect of a bucket of cold water, and Ed straightened up, crossing his arms and glaring petulantly at the three who stood at the entrance to the room, watching them in puzzlement.

'Are we interrupting something?' Hughes asked, one eyebrow lifted in amusement as his gaze settled on Ed. 'We could hear you out in the street. I can't remember the last time I heard you shouting, Roy. Not sober, anyway.'

Ed rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb towards his own body and the older man occupying it. 'That's Roy. I'm Ed.'

'Fullmetal stole my body,' Roy said coolly, as if such things happened everyday.

'I did not steal it!' Ed retorted. 'Why the fuck would I want it? Old, creaking, freakishly tall – '

'I am not old!'

It was obviously a sore spot for Roy, and Ed felt the smirk again. It seemed it was something that Roy's face liked to do without any control from the brain, and he had to admit it was entertaining to watch Roy splutter and snarl. He would never have done it in this body, but in Ed's it seemed like he did not have a choice.

'Sir, I know you don't want to do your paperwork,' Hawkeye said in a weary tone, 'but you could at least come up with a believable excuse.' Her brown eyes were boring into Ed like a drill, and he swallowed nervously as he flailed his hands.

'It's not an excuse! I'm Ed. That's the lazy shit who won't sign reports on time!'

'Yeah, pull the other one, sir, it's got bells on,' Havoc chuckled, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

'You promised to be back in thirty minutes when you left. That was three hours ago,' Hawkeye told him. 'You're just going to have to stay late and catch up, sir.'

'As entertaining as this is, I'm afraid Ed's telling the truth,' Roy said quietly. 'Maes, you know me better than anyone. How can you think that's me?'

Hughes looked between them, his grin less certain now as he tried to work out whether or not this was some kind of joke. 'Because that's your face and your body. Although, I admit, he's swearing like Ed.' He shook his head, spreading his hands wide. 'Prove it. There's got to be something that you know that Ed wouldn't.' When Roy screwed up his face, Hughes looked at Ed. 'Or vice versa? If you're Ed, then you're bound to know something he shouldn't.'

'Nothing I want to say out loud,' Ed muttered, making a tight, irritated sound when Hughes shrugged. 'Okay, like what?'

Havoc cleared his throat, and there was a definite snigger in there as he said, 'If you're really Ed, then tell me what happened when you woke up the day after your eighteenth birthday.' He raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently as Ed glared daggers at him.

'I found out that you and Breda have a death wish?' Ed scowled as Jean made a “carry on” gesture with his hands, trying to ignore the heat in his face as he glanced sideways at Roy before muttering, 'I woke up with a shitty hangover and, thanks to you two, a stupid tattoo.'

'Really?' Hughes asked as Hawkeye managed to give Havoc a disapproving glare for his behaviour. 'What of?'

'None of your business,' Ed snapped as Jean's chuckles became outright laughter. 'Are you satisfied now? I'm _not_ Roy.'

Hawkeye looked between the two of them, her lips twisted in distrust. 'I know the lengths that the Brigadier-General will go to to get out of paperwork. Edward might have briefed you on that detail, sir.'

'Why would I ever tell Mustang that?' Ed demanded. He looked over at Roy, desperate for some kind of back up before Riza decided to shoot them both. 'Help me out here, will you?'

Roy shrugged, his left shoulder rising further than the automail right as he sighed in annoyance. 'Maes, the day before your wedding you had serious second thoughts about marrying Gracia. I told you that if you didn't go through with it, then I would marry her instead.' Roy raised golden eyebrows and gave a wry smile. 'You were so angry you almost broke my nose, but at least I was right. It made you realise that all your doubts were nothing but nerves. Remember?'

Hughes' mouth was hanging open a little, and the amusement was rapidly dying from his face. The doubt was not entirely gone, but now he was looking at the two of them with something like horror. 'What did you say to me just before you went to get a report from Ed this afternoon?' he asked intently.

Ed watched Roy give Hughes a glare. 'I made you swear you would not snoop through my desk like you did last time I left you in my office unsupervised.' Gold eyes slid Ed's way, and that painful blush began to tinge Roy's cheeks as he mumbled, 'You still haven't let me forget about what you found, and all the locks on my desk mysteriously fail when you are around.'

There was a moment of silence as Hughes stared at them both. 'God, you really have swapped bodies, haven't you?' He scrubbed a hand over his stubble, cheeks pale as he tried to adjust his mind to the unbelievable situation. 'Are either of you hurt? Are you both all right?'

'Just confused,' Roy replied, 'but if the military finds out about what happened that could change. This kind of alchemy would change the way we gather intelligence for the worse.'

'We would never have to worry about spies getting caught again,' Hughes replied, but his voice was not excited. It was full of dread. 'We could swap into bodies and go wherever we pleased. The military would tear itself apart to get their hands on that array.'

'And they would tear us apart trying to understand it,' Roy added. 'The army would abuse it; you know that. We can't let the top brass hear about this. Besides, there are a lot of people who would suggest that whatever happened falls into the realms of human transmutation, and we all know how well that would go down.'

Ed had not even thought about the repercussions of what had happened. He had been too focussed on the immediate personal confusion and he watched as the weight of what Roy said sank in to those around them.

Hughes took a deep breath, putting his hands on his hips. He studied the floorboards before giving a sharp nod, and even Ed knew it was a simple assurance that he would help them however he could. 'Then tell me what the plan is. I'm guessing you've already tried to reverse it?'

'We've tried the basics,' Roy said, shaking his head a little and looking over at Ed, his eyes glazed over with thought, 'but we could use some more time. Neither of us can be around headquarters like we are. The other officers will notice that something is wrong in no time. I'm no “Hero of the People” and Fullmetal has all the diplomatic skills of a battering ram.'

'Fuck off, Mustang.' Ed folded his arms, hating the way the uniform chafed at the collar and felt more like a straight-jacket than real clothing. 'What else are we meant to do? We can't just disappear.'

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh that, in the right body, would have sounded frustrated. Instead it came across as exhaustion, and Ed wondered what it must be like for him. Not that he felt sorry for the bastard or anything, it was just that, of the both of them, Ed suspected he had got the better deal.

'It's Friday,' Roy said at last, waving his right arm without thinking and wincing in discomfort as he tried to deal with the unusual bulk of the Automail. 'We have until Monday before people start asking questions. We'll take the plate back to my place and see what we can do in the time we have. If we're still drawing a blank by Sunday morning we'll have to work something else out.'

'Why your place?' Ed demanded. 'I'm already in the wrong body. Why do I have to spend the weekend in the wrong house, too?'

Roy looked at him. 'My house has a spare bedroom, whereas there's barely enough room for you and Alphonse in your flat.' He said it in a slow, speaking-to-idiots voice that Ed knew he had used himself in the past, and he felt the deep, low snarl of Roy's anger in his gut. Before he could point out that Al was in Risembool with Winry, Roy added, 'Besides, as I have told you many times before, Fullmetal, I am your commanding officer. That means that I give orders, and you follow them.'

'Funny, I'm the only one here in a Brigadier-General's uniform,' Ed pointed out, smirking as Roy clenched his jaw. 'Doesn't that mean I outrank you?'

'No!' Roy spat. 'There's more to being a general than stars on your shoulder.!' He dragged in a breath, visibly struggling to maintain control and when he spoke again, his voice was pleading. 'For once, can't you just do what I tell you?'

A flicker of guilt cut through Ed, and he was pretty sure that it was not a reaction of the body, but the mind. Rolling his eyes, he walked over to the plate, bending down to pick it up. 'Fine. I guess the sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get back where I belong.' He made sure he was not touching any of the lines etched into the metal as he turned it over to face him, giving the array another, critical look before turning towards the door. 'Are you coming or not?'

'What about us, sir?' Hawkeye asked, her gaze swinging between the two of them as though she was not certain who to address.

'You might as well both head home and enjoy your weekend,' Roy replied tiredly. 'If I can't make it to the office on Monday morning, I'll let you know. Just keep what's happened under your hats. Don't tell anyone. Not even the others from work, all right?

Riza and Havoc both gave him a vaguely affronted look, as if Roy had insulted their intelligence and loyalty by reminding them to be discreet, but Ed knew it was a valid warning. Hawkeye could be trusted, but Jean gossiped like a fish-wife given the chance. 'Yes, sir.'

'I'll drive them back to Roy's,' Hughes added, holding out his hand for the keys and grinning when Jean deposited them in his palm. 'At least then they won't be out in the open confusing everyone.'

He turned towards the front door, opening it and leading them out into the gathering dark. Frost sprinkled the pavement, and the wind of winter's dying breaths gasped along the street. It would be spring soon but, for now, the cold still lingered. It did not affect Ed as much as he expected it to, but he saw a hard shudder rip through Roy and noticed the way he pressed a hand to the automail elbow.

Before today, weather like this had always made Ed feel old, and he had never realised how much of that was to do with the Automail. Roy's body was a little chilled by the touch of the air, but it was warm, comfortable and alive. Some winter days, Ed felt more like a corpse than a living thing, and now Roy was suffering a similar experience. Maybe that would make the bastard think twice the next time he sent Ed to Drachma.

He waited for Roy to scramble in the car, trying to stamp down on the soft bloom of pity as he watched Roy's attempts to hide the visible shivers that raced over his skin. He almost offered Roy the thick, military coat, but something stopped him. He hated it when anyone assumed that he was weak, would rather suffer than accept their help, and they normally had to shove their assistance down his throat before he would even consider taking it. While some of that rage might be his damn pride, he would bet anything that Roy was just the same, no matter what body he occupied.

Ed shrugged out of the coat, noticing the fluid way his shoulders moved -so different from the Automail. It stirred up memories, more than a decade old, of being a kid, whole and wild and unburdened by the cool kiss of steel. With a grunt, Ed pitched the recollections aside and balled up the black wool, throwing it carelessly into Roy's lap and settling in the seat at his side.

Roy's lips parted in protest, but he was cold enough to choke it back. He didn't put the coat on, but he huddled under it like it was a blanket as he muttered, 'How can you ever been warm enough wearing these clothes?' He jerked at the black jacket irritably, wrinkling his nose at it. 'If you wore a uniform, I wouldn't be suffering.'

'Yeah you would. I'd make sure of it.' Ed promised, folding his arms and scowling out of the window as Maes' choke of laughter was drowned out by the engine rumbling to life. The world skimmed by as the car picked up speed, and a heavy silence settled over them. The plate's cool weight felt strange against Ed's palms, and he tipped it back and forth as he stared at it unseeingly, trying to think over the increasing panic that was flowing into his mind.

Since he had woken up, he had been ignoring the truth about what had happened. It was easier to try and solve the problem than think about what it might mean in the long-run. Now, Ed took a deep breath, and forced himself to think the words, loud and clear, in the silence of his mind. He was trapped inside Mustang's body, and Roy was inhabiting the flesh and blood that Ed had been born into.

It sounded unreal and, if Ed had not been an alchemist, he would have laughed it off and said it was impossible. Yet he had seen himself the bitter twists of fate the Gate dealt out. In comparison to what had happened to him and Al when they were kids, this was a walk in the park. He and Roy were both whole, healthy and as sane as they had ever been. The only thing wrong was that they were not where they belonged.

To everyone else, they looked the same as always. Identified by their physical characteristics, he knew that everyone would think that he was Roy Mustang. It was only when he opened his mouth they realised something was wrong. His mannerisms weren't right, his personality was incompatible with what everyone else expected, and suddenly Ed was facing an identity crisis.

He knew he was Ed Elric, but everyone else needed to be convinced. He was pretty sure even his own brother wouldn't believe him, and Ed couldn't help the frisson of relief that Al was away in Risembool. Maybe by the time he got back, this mess would all be sorted and Ed would never have to tell him what had happened – that he had been stuck in Roy's body and ordered to stay in Roy's house while they tried to work out what some crappy old array had done to them and how to reverse it.

A thought washed over him like cold sea water, and Ed stiffened as the enormity of what had happened drove itself further home. He was stuck in Roy's body, but that wasn't like living in someone else's house. A body had needs, it had to be looked after, and Ed almost groaned aloud as the logistics of that worked through his brain.

He would have to eat and drink, and that would inevitably mean he would have to use the bathroom eventually. He'd have to keep the bastard's body clean which meant brushing his teeth, shaving, taking a piss, going in the shower.... Ed closed his eyes, swallowing tightly as his emotions twisted themselves in a complicated knot. He had fantasised about seeing Roy naked enough times in the past, but he had never imagined seeing it through the fucker's own eyes.

A blush slammed into his face as he realised that Roy was going to have to do the same for Ed's body. It needed more than the Automail oiling, and Ed cringed as he shuffled lower in his seat. That was just what he needed, Roy looking over him with a critic's eye, seeing every scar and flaw. Could this get any more humiliating?

He barely noticed that Hughes was pulling the car to a halt, and Ed blinked himself back from his thoughts as he looked up at Mustang's town-house. To his mind, it looked alien, but his body felt safe and secure. Every unfamiliar instinct was at ease, and his hand skimmed automatically towards his pocket, tugging the keys loose before his brain could intercede.

Without a word he handed them to Roy, avoiding his gaze as he clambered out of the car, the plate still cool in his hand. The street was calm and quiet, spotted with street-lamps that glowed in the deepening twilight. A few cars were parked outside the neighbours, but no one was watching to see a young man with gold hair climb up the steps and slip the key into the lock.

'Will you be all right?' Hughes asked from where he stood by the car. 'I can't help with the alchemy, but if you need anything us mere mortals can handle, then just let me know.'

'Thanks, Maes,' Roy said, and there was real gratitude in his words. With Ed's voice and that tone, he sounded as young as he looked, not an angry bitter eighteen-going-on-eighty. 'I think we're fine. You should get home to Gracia.'

Roy's words obviously did not ease Hughes' concern, because he looked at them both, biting his lip hard enough to turn it white. 'You sure? I can stay here if you need me to. If nothing else I can make sure you don't kill each other.'

'Go home, Maes,' Roy replied softly. 'We might not even get the alchemy to work, but if we do there's a good chance of you getting caught in the backfire. I'm not going to risk that.'

Hughes looked like he wanted to argue, and he glanced towards Ed, no doubt searching his countenance for some clues. All Ed could do was shrug. He might have Roy's face, but that did not mean he knew what was going on in the bastard's head.

Finally, Hughes nodded, jingling the car keys as he promised, 'I'll call in tomorrow and make sure you're all right, and no, Roy, you can't talk me out of that.' He smiled, a shadowy whisper of his normal good nature. 'Goodnight, you two. Try and get some sleep, okay?'

There was not much hope of that, but Ed held his tongue as Hughes got in the car and set off, giving the horn one quiet beep of farewell as he swung out of the street. Finally, he had no reason not to follow Roy into the house, and he braced himself, not sure what to expect.

As soon as he walked through the door, Ed felt like he had come home. Mentally, the environment was new to him, but physically he knew every corner of this house, not in his mind, but in his muscles. Taut nerves were soothed by the general feeling of security that lingered on the air, and a quick glance at Roy told Ed everything he needed to know.

This was Mustang's sanctuary.

His feet wanted to walk pathways they knew well. His throat was parched for a drink, and his skin longed for the hot kiss of a fire burning in the grate. Yet none of that was his to demand, and Ed was left standing awkwardly in the hallway while Roy's body strained like a dog on a leash, desperate to make itself at home.

'What now?' he asked, watching Roy walk through the hall. He was moving stiffly and still clung to the coat Ed had thrown at him like it was a security blanket. 'I don't even know where to start with this thing.' He waved the plate vaguely before following Roy into what turned out to be a joint living room and office. There were comfortable sofas arranged in front of the fire and a large desk off to the side, scattered with the daily paperwork of Roy's life, probably both professional and personal.

A clock ticked on the mantelpiece, muffled by the ceiling-to-floor book cases on either side of the fireplace. It was not the biggest collection Ed had ever seen, but he would bet anything that Roy would go for quality over quantity, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to read the titles from a distance. The knuckles of his right hand felt tense and cramped around the plate, as if there was something they thought they were meant to be doing, and it took Ed a couple of minutes to realise Roy was glaring at him.

'What?'

'Light the damn fire,' he ordered, huffing out a sigh as he seemed to remember his manners. 'Please?'

That last bit was grudging at best, and Ed pulled a face before snapping his fingers like he had seen Mustang do a hundred times before. It was only as the spark flared to life that he realised how stupid he had been. He knew nothing about fire alchemy except the most basic of theories, and it took all of his concentration to shoot a small, concentrated flame into the grate rather than scorching Roy's wallpaper and setting the house alight.

The kindling caught first, and Ed let out a sigh of relief as the flames stayed in place when the array died away. He had always known that Roy's alchemy took more control than he ever let on, but he had not expected it to be so precise. Somehow, he suspected Roy had not wanted anyone to know, because he made an irritated sound before hunkering down in front of the fire, pulling off his plain white gloves and holding out his hands towards the flickering glow in the hearth.

'This is surreal,' Roy murmured, and Ed watched him flex the fingers of the Automail hand experimentally. His face was screwed up in concentration, like he was really having to think about it, and Ed bit back the urge to tell him that would only make it worse. It was like riding a bike, put too much thought into it and you were just going to fall off. 'How could this even happen?'

'You shouldn't let crazy old alchemists do research without checking up on what they're doing once in a while,' Ed pointed out, dumping the plate on Roy's desk and leaning back against it. The body he was in moved on its own accord, hands going behind him to rest on the wood's edge as he relaxed.

' _You_ shouldn't reach blindly into piles of paperwork and activate mysterious arrays!' Roy grumbled, getting to his feet and putting his hand on the mantel for balance. Ed narrowed his eyes at him, noticing that he looked a bit pale. Roy's skin was normally pasty, but Ed's was golden. Now it was a little queasy, and he winced as he realised what the problem was.

Roy thought he was a demanding brat, but he was getting to see first hand what Ed's body could do. Ed had forgotten to eat lunch before all this happened, and now it looked like his stomach was making its demands incredibly clear. Eat something now, or feel like shit for days.

Without a word, Ed turned away, pushing his way out of the living room and walking across the hall. He had no idea where the kitchen was, but his feet took him there anyway, as if they had their own map. It was a neat little room, with a decent sized stove and too many cupboards which, he discovered, were mostly empty. In the end he settled for bread and butter, knowing that it would only be enough to shut Roy's borrowed stomach up for about an hour.

Wandering back to the living room, he shoved the make-shift meal under Roy's nose. 'Eat it, you'll feel better. With the Automail, that body needs a lot of food to keep going, and breakfast was the last thing it got.' He watched Roy give the snack a disdainful look, but his stomach was not so picky. Ed heard its roar from where he was standing, and he hid a smile as he watched Roy struggle to find some balance between good manners and satisfying his appetite.

The bread was gone in under a minute, and Roy wiped his mouth with his left hand, already looking brighter and more alert as he glanced towards the fire. 'Now I know why you always eat like you don't have time to chew,' he said, putting the plate on the hearth with a quiet clatter. When he looked back, his expression was one of mixed reprimand and guilt.

'I always thought Al was exaggerating when he said you forgot to eat, but I guess I was wrong. Worse, I know I don't have much food in. I meant to get some tonight, but... .' He waved a hand in mute explanation, indicating their current predicament. 'We should have asked Maes, but I didn't even think of it.'

Ed glanced at the clock's face. It was half seven in the evening. In the middle of the city, there were a few places that served customers that late, but in the suburbs they probably wouldn't have much luck. 'Isn't there anywhere around here still open?' he asked hopefully as Roy followed his gaze.

'It's Friday, isn't it?' Roy asked, giving a faint smile as Ed nodded his head. 'The shop at the end of the street stays open until eight. You should be able to get enough supplies from there to get us through the weekend.'

'Wait, what?' Ed asked. 'Why should I go?'

'Because, as far as anyone who sees you will know, you're me. If Roy Mustang visits his local shop, it won't raise any eyebrows, but what reason would the Fullmetal Alchemist have to be around here?' Roy shrugged with a hint of apology. 'It will raise less suspicion if you go than me, at least while I look like this. Besides, it's your stomach I'm feeding.'

It sounded like a pretty tenuous excuse to Ed, and he gave Roy a weak glare as he folded his arms, trying to work out what other reason Roy might have for wanting him to go the store. He was a lazy shit, Ed knew that much, but there was something else in Roy's expression, and a suspicion tickled the back of his mind.

The way Roy was standing confirmed it, his weight shifted entirely on his right hip and faint pain tightening the skin around his eyes. Ed knew that look and its cause, and he stifled a sigh as he said, 'Whatever, Mustang. Although, you know if your leg hurts, you can just say so. Of everyone in the world, I'm going to know what you're talking about.'

With a grunt that could have been acknowledgement, Roy threw the thick military coat at Ed. 'Wallet's in the pocket. There should be enough money in there to get what we need. Just – try not to talk to anyone, okay? I get on well with my neighbours, and I'd like it to stay that way.'

'Bite me,' Ed snarked, grabbing the coat and turning to stalk towards the door. 'Do something useful while I'm gone and look at that damn array. Not that I think you've got what it takes to figure it out.'

He did not hear Roy's reply, if there was one, as he grabbed the keys that Roy had left on the table by the door and stepped out onto the porch. The cool air caressed his face as he trotted down the steps, scuffing the stupid, military boots along the pavement. It was a petty thing to do, but the thought of Roy trying frantically to scrub them to a shine when he was done was enough to put a smile on his face.

Ed had always thought that Mustang could not get any worse, but he had been wrong. Ed's temper, rooted in the spit and fizz of hormones, combined with Roy's sharp, quick tongue to create something lethal, and what did Ed have? Nothing. He kicked at a loose stone on the pavement, watching it skitter away as he wandered along the street.

Switching bodies was bad enough, but Ed had not forgotten how he had reacted when Roy got too close. Since that moment, he had been trying hard to keep his distance. It was all just so confusing. There were too many questions fogging up his mind, and there was barely an answer to be found.

When he was a kid trying desperately to get his mother back, Ed had read more than his fair share of books, and not all of them had been on alchemy. He had needed to know about the body itself, and he could still remember some of the text next to the embarrassing anatomical diagrams about reproduction. He had almost skipped over it back then, but childish curiosity had got the better of him, and he'd given himself just a couple of minutes to read it.

The details were fuzzy, now, but he remembered the gist of what the book had been saying. Sometimes the body could react on its own, experiencing arousal without any concious intent. Ed knew that well enough. He'd paced around in front of Roy's desk trying to will away a hard-on so often that he knew his body had a mind of its own.

Ed did not find his own appearance remotely attractive. He'd never fantasised about sex with himself, and yet, physically, he had been stifled with desire when they stood too close. Was it a case of the flesh wanting what the brain did not? Did Roy's body want Ed's no matter whose mind rode inside?

With a shake of his head, Ed rounded his shoulders against the wind. That was a stupid thing to hope for. Mustang had never given any kind of sign that he thought of Ed as anything but a brat. Occasionally they managed something like respect, but even that was pretty rare. What was he meant to do? Believe Roy had been hiding the itch of want behind his masks all the time?

Masks that he didn't now have?

Ed hesitated as that thought struck him, and he looked back over his shoulder along the street. Now that he came to think about it, the bastard was excellent at hiding his feelings when he was in the right body, and Ed was eternally inept at reading people. Mustang could have been hiding anything, and Ed would never have known. It might seem stupid, but that didn't mean his idea was impossible.

He turned the thought over in his mind and, the more he looked at it, the more sure he became that it was a matter worth investigating. When Ed thought it was unrequited attraction it was easy to brush off the way he felt as a hormone addled crush and hope it would pass, but if Roy felt something – _anything_ – for him, then he knew he could not let it go.

Ed's mouth twisted in a mirthless smile at that thought. Working out if Roy's body became aroused whenever it was within a foot of Ed's would be easy enough. It was doing it without causing terminal embarrassment to himself that would be the problem.

Another thought slipped through his mind, making his back stiffen in humiliation. It was easy to forget that Roy had as much knowledge of Ed's body as Ed did of Roy's. He was living inside skin and steel, and he would be getting first-hand experience of what happened to Ed's body whenever it was in the presence of Roy's.

Embarrassment washed over Ed in a crimson tide, and he clenched his hands into fists as he tried to control the heat in his face. The very thought of Mustang knowing about all that want and need was almost more than he could bear. He was tempted to scurry back to his flat with its books and its peace and hide there forever, but that was impossible. He would have to face Roy sooner or later if he wanted his body back, but how was he meant to look at the fucker now?

Maybe Roy would not reach the same conclusion? Perhaps he would attribute it to being back in a teenage body again, adult in the eyes of the law but still getting to grips with its hormones. It was a vain hope, but it was all Ed had, and he clung to it like a lifeline.

Ed slipped his hands in his pockets, shoving his thoughts into silence as he dragged his mind back to the job. He had to get food, get back, untangle that array and put things back the way they were. Once that was done, he could walk out of the door and pretend that he had never known or noticed the way Roy's body behaved, and hopefully Roy would return the favour. Things would be the same as always, and life would go on as normal.

Yeah, right.

Blinking himself back to reality, Ed realised that he was standing outside the shop. The windows were brightly lit, and he could see a few customers wandering around making their purchases. He had been hoping it would be empty, but it looked like he was out of luck.

Taking a deep breath, he nudged his way inside, trying not to feel too much like a wolf in sheep's clothing. The man behind the till gave him a friendly smile, and he forced his lips to return it as he grabbed a basket and sauntered among the shelves, pondering over what he and Roy might need.

Gradually, he began to stock up, getting as many essentials as possible. In the end, he was left at the back of the shop, scowling at the baffling array of milk. He was not even sure if they needed it. There was no way he would drink any of the stuff, no matter what this body wanted, and Ed doubted his stomach would react well to any that Roy decided to drink.

As he stood there dithering about it, he became aware of a presence standing behind him. Whoever it was appeared to be more interested in him than the milk, and panic flickered through Ed's mind as the scent of flowers hit him like a battering ram. Before he even turned around he knew he would find a girl standing there, and he was not disappointed.

She was exactly the kind of woman that Roy would like to be seen with, Ed was sure. Her hair was light brown and fell in waves to her shoulders, and her lips were painted bright red. She wore more make-up than he had ever seen on any girl in the military, and a flawless white suit that was begging to have coffee spilled down it. He hoped against hope she was just someone Roy knew engaging in friendly conversation, but when would Mustang ever stay just “friendly” with a woman who looked like that? Besides, Ed's hopes drowned out entirely when she spoke, her voice a soft, sensuous purr that made several other men glance over before looking hurriedly away.

'Hello, Roy. I haven't seen you in a while.' She fiddled artfully with the necklace she wore, no doubt trying to bring even more attention to her ample chest. Havoc would have been a pile of goo on the floor if he'd been here, but Ed was trying desperately not to let his apathy to her physical charms show on his face.

He had no clue what to do, but Roy's muscles seemed to move on their own accord, bringing a choreographed smile to his face and making him turn fully towards her. He did not know her name, so a response was difficult, but Ed managed to rake his mind for the rare instances he had actually seen Mustang on the prowl. He did not want to encourage this woman, but he could not exactly pretend she was not there, either.

'It's been too long,' he agreed in what he hoped was a neutral voice.

'I was beginning to worry that you would forget about me!' She laughed, but it was not about humour, and Ed tried to keep his disdain well-hidden. He could almost say she was as bad as Mustang, all masks, but at least Roy had something behind his. This woman looked as if there was nothing but an empty head behind her pretty face.

'I can promise you, that's not possible.' That reply came out of nowhere, like it had been on his tongue all along, but there was a tiny edge of mockery to it. Ed struggled not to wince as she stepped closer, near enough that if she rocked her weight forward she would be pressed against him. She had him cornered, and he clenched his teeth as she gave him a saccharine sweet smile.

'You are such a charmer, Roy,' she said, ignoring any ambiguity to his words and taking it as a compliment. 'We really should start meeting somewhere more –' She bit her lip, glancing away in a parody of shyness before looking at him again from under her lashes. '– intimate.' She flicked some imaginary fluff from the lapel of his coat and tugged at the fabric, pulling him just a fraction closer. The smile on her face was almost predatory, and Ed struggled not to panic as he tried to think of a suitable response.

However, it did not seem she needed one, because she glanced at his shopping with a pout on her mouth. 'I hope you're not buying for company,' she simpered. 'I would hate to think there was someone else special in your life.'

Something wicked cut across Ed's mind, and his mouth moved before he had a chance to think twice. 'Unfortunately, I'm afraid you're right. I have company over tonight, and I'm not sure when, or if, they'll be leaving.' It was true enough, and suitably vague that she could take whatever she wanted from that statement.

However, it was clear that Mustang's reputation helped make up her mind. All trace of flirtation disappeared from the woman's face, and her lips pulled back in a grimace. Yet it was a snarl with no claws to back it up, and she tossed her hair over her shoulder as she stepped away. She opened and closed her mouth like she did not know what to say, and Ed would have felt sorry for her if it was devastation, rather than anger on her face.

The abrupt beep of a car horn made her look around, and when she turned back her face was more composed and the smile was back in place. 'Well, when your guest has left, as I am sure she will, don't forget to look me up.' She smirked, and Ed was reminded of a cat playing with a mouse. 'I'll be waiting.'

She walked away with a swing in her hips and her high-heels tapping on the floor, but it was only when the bell above the shop door rang to announce her departure that Ed felt able to breathe again. How did Roy cope with it? How could he form any kind of relationship with someone like _that_? Did all his lovers treat it as some kind of game? Was it always about keeping score?

Ed had no idea how many people Roy had taken to his bed, and he knew his own tally would look paltry in comparison, but at least his lasted more than one night, and he never felt like he was someone's trophy to be shown off and bragged about. Whoever that woman had been, she was interested in Brigadier-General Mustang, Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishbal, not Roy.

Still, now she was gone he felt a twinge guilt for his deception, not because he felt bad about giving her the cold shoulder, but because he had not had Roy's permission to do so. For all he knew, Roy might be actively pursuing her, although he had thought that Mustang would recognise a man-eater when he saw one. Maybe they had some weird kind of power-play going on?

With a sigh, Ed grabbed a bottle of milk and took the groceries to the till, paying for the food and bidding the shopkeeper a quiet goodnight as he headed back down the street. The two paper bags in his arms were awkward and heavy. Roy was not weak, not by any means, but Ed was sure his arms would not get tired so quickly if he were in his own body. He had to go slow and keep readjusting his load, but it gave him time to wonder about whether or not to tell Roy about what had happened.

The annoying truth was that Roy would find out about it sooner or later. If the bastard was not interested in her, then he would be grateful for Ed's comment, or at least not angered by it. If he wanted to pursue that woman, then he at least deserved to know the mess Ed had dumped him in, didn't he?

Something hot swamped Ed's mind, an oppressive hand that brushed every thought, and he swallowed as the jealousy made him scowl at the pavement. He had no right to stand between Roy and any woman. For fuck's sake, he had never drummed the courage to even think about staking a claim to Mustang, but that did not stop him feeling darkly satisfied that he had at least cooled one woman's ardour a little.

Roy deserved better than that anyway. He should go for someone nice; someone who would look after him and remind him not to hunch over his desk so much, not some vain doll who would probably be more trouble than she was worth.

He stamped angrily up the steps to the front door, not sure why he felt as furious as he did. Spitting curses, he tried to juggle the bags and the keys, and when the door opened before he'd even undone the lock, he could only glare at Roy in mute annoyance.

'Come in, Fullmetal,' he said wearily, too quiet for anyone passing in the street to hear, 'before you disturb the neighbours. Do you have to swear so much? If someone else hears you they're going to think I have some kind of mental illness.' He grabbed one of the bags out of Ed's hands, wandering through to the kitchen as he asked, 'What took you so long, anyway?'

Clenching his teeth, Ed dumped the shopping on the kitchen table. 'It's not my fault I got cornered by your latest piece of ass,' he muttered, looking up to see that Mustang had gone completely still. He was halfway through putting the bread in the cupboard, left arm outstretched towards the shelf, but he was looking at Ed with a funny expression on his face.

'Who was it?' Roy asked warily, his shoulders tense in a way that had to be making the Automail more uncomfortable.

'I don't know her name!' Ed snapped, banging a can of meat down on the table. 'All your memories are in there with you. She was –' He faltered for the right kind of word to describe her, 'A shark. Brown hair, shorter than you, a smirk and a temper when she doesn't get her way.'

'I'm going to need more to go on than that,' Roy said, and Ed did not miss the faintly smug edge to his tone, 'although the temper is something I've not seen before. What about her eyes, her perfume? You're meant to be observant, Fullmetal.'

'She stank of flowers.' Ed shut his eyes, trying to remember her better. 'Her eyes were probably brown, and she was wearing diamond earrings. Said you two should start meeting somewhere more “intimate”.'

He snatched the bag from the empty table, screwing it up and pitching it into the bin. He hated the fact that he cared about whether Mustang wanted that woman or not. He hated the way his thoughts whined and whimpered, desolate and lonely in his head because Roy would probably always choose someone like her rather than a loud subordinate who could not even obey orders.

Except, now that he thought about it, Roy's body had not so much as warmed at her presence. There had been no hum of pleasure in his veins or bite of desire between his legs. It had been completely indifferent to her and going through the motions unconsciously, nothing more.

'Let me guess, she was wearing a low cut white suit and a shiny necklace, right?' Roy asked, looking over at Ed in pity. 'Georgia Parks, who is not and never will be my latest “piece of ass” as you so delightfully put it.' He appeared to be struck by an unpleasant thought, because he looked at Ed with pleading gold eyes. 'Tell me you didn't do anything to encourage her?'

Ed frowned, trying not to dwell on the surge of relief that swelled in his chest. 'I might have implied you had a long-term guest to deal with. She assumed it was a woman and left.' He was not sure how Roy would react, but he did not expect the inarticulate noise of surprised relief that shaped the air.

'Thank God for that,' Roy said with feeling, running a hand through his hair. 'Next time we need anything, I'll go out. My reputation is a bit more fragile than yours.'

Ed opened his mouth to argue, but Roy had already grabbed a snack and was heading back through to the living room. 'I've been looking at the plate; it seems familiar, like the alchemy is something I've seen before.' He grimaced, looking at Ed over his shoulder. 'Although it could be something _you've_ seen before.' He shrugged, clearly frustrated by the disconnect caused by having Ed's higher intellectual capacity, but not the years of focussed study to enable it. 'Basically, I'm no closer to understanding what happened than when you left.'

He said it as if it was a painful confession, and Ed realised that was probably just the case. He was not the only person who had too much pride to willingly admit he could not solve a problem. Now, if anything Roy seemed to be struggling more, making an effort to hide his annoyance at himself and failing miserably as Ed's expressive face gave him away.

'You don't have to pout about it,' Ed muttered, taking off the thick coat and uniform jacket before brushing past Roy and moving towards the desk. The plate was well-lit by the lamps in the room, and it only served to enhance the intricacy of the design on the metal surface. Carefully, Ed traced the lines, keeping his fingers just far enough away so they would not touch.

Roy's intelligence, hard-wired into his brain, might not allow Ed to make the same leaps of deduction he had been able to when he was in his own body, but his memories were still with him. All those hours of reading lingered on, phantoms turning yellow with age, and he knew that the first step to understanding an array was to follow the line of the energy. Most alchemists forgot that all their skill and talent stemmed from the same fundamentals, and they lost themselves in the problem without taking the time to map what they were looking at.

Warmth at his side prickled at Ed's awareness, and he forced himself not to look up as Roy stepped closer, leaning on the desk to get a better view. He was propping his weight on his left hand, leaving the Automail hanging at his side, and a stolen sideways glance was enough for Ed to see that his face was still pinched with pain. His muscles were probably pulling every which way as Roy's concious mind tried to deal with the alien limb, and Ed clamped down on the sudden surge of protectiveness that went through him.

'It's got storage cells,' he said, clearing his throat as his voice came out sounding a little rough. 'Here and here.' Gesturing to the loops that would form ever-growing eddies in the design until the array reached a discharge capacity. Ed bit his lip. He had seen something like this before, drawn in clear, black ink on paper, and he rubbed at his forehead as he tried to remember the book.

'You all right?' Roy asked. It would have been nice to think he was genuinely concerned for Ed's welfare, but Ed suspected that Roy was just keen to get his body back in one piece.

Now he thought out it, he did feel a little strange, slow and sluggish, with a twinging headache that intensified to a throb whenever he paid attention to it. He knew a caffeine craving when he felt one, and considering how much of the stuff Roy drank, he was not surprised that this body was demanding its fix.

'Need coffee,' he muttered, flicking a hand at one of the bookshelves as he walked towards the kitchen. 'Do you have a copy of Bristow's Ideals in there? I think that's where I've seen something like this before.'

Without waiting for a reply, Ed put the kettle on the stove, barely paying attention as his mind got caught in the lines and curves of the array. He might not understand Roy's body, which was currently going through making the coffee on autopilot, but, given time, he could probably understand the alchemy that had landed him here.

At least, he hoped he could.

It was only as he was pouring the coffee that he realised he had made two cups. He guessed it was because he was so used to putting some together for Al in the morning, and he glared at them in annoyance. Still, Roy was not the only one hooked on coffee, and Ed would bet anything his body was eager for some of the brew.

He settled on leaving milk out of both cups. If Roy wanted that repulsive stuff in there, then he could come through and add it himself. Reaching out, Ed grabbed one by the handle and the other by main body of the cup, realising too late that his hand was flesh and bone, rather than heat resistant Automail. The pain was enough to make him reel in shock, and he dumped the cup back on the counter with a hissed curse, slopping some over the sides.

It was a minor scald, nothing too bad. More than anything it had been the shock of sensation that had cut through his mind like a knife. Since he had woken up in this body, he had been keenly aware of the chafe of his sleeve against his skin and the feel of things against his fingers, but they had been soft sensations compared to the searing heat of the coffee.

Pulling a face to himself, Ed picked up the mugs more carefully this time and headed back to the living room. Nudging open the door with his foot, he stepped inside and looked towards where Roy was standing on tiptoe, left hand stretched towards the higher shelves that were completely beyond the reach of his current body.

It was impossible not to smile at the sight. Through these eyes, Ed could admit with more than a hint of despair that he was short, at least compared to Roy. His only consolation was that the bastard was getting a taste of how annoying the world could be.

Quietly, he set the mugs down on the desk and walked up behind Roy, reaching over his head and pulling the book down. Unfortunately, he did not think through how close that would leave their bodies, and Ed swallowed tightly as a warm back brushed against his chest, teasingly perfect through the fabric of the cotton shirt.

A powerful urge slammed through Ed, and he clenched his jaw as he tried not to give in to it. His fingertips wanted to sweep that gold ponytail aside, and his lips tingled with the need to press kisses to the nape that would be revealed. His spine wanted to arch forward and bring him closer the shorter form in front of him, and it took all of Ed's focus to keep his back rigid.

Roy had gone still. Ed could see that the tips of his ears had gone red and his breathing had changed, becoming less steady as the metal right hand tightened on the bookshelf and the left dropped to his side. 'I could have reached it,' he said, his voice more low and hushed than normal.

'I know,' Ed replied quietly, almost shoving himself away and turning towards the desk as his entire body keened. It hated the distance and despised the feel of cool air rather than warm skin, but if he had stayed close it could only end in disaster. They had to focus on the array, had to figure it out, because Ed was not sure how much longer he could bear the strength of want that reverberated through Roy's body, low and carnal, whenever they were near one another.

Ed had always known the bastard's masks were good, but he had never realised that what lay beneath the surface was an exact reflection of the heat that tormented Ed almost without pause. Now, he could not deny that, and the array swam in front of his eyes as his thoughts ran riot. If Mustang's body had been screaming at him like this, then why had the fucker always kept his distance? Why had he never done anything about it?

The secrets to that were locked away inside Mustang's mind, the only thing that Ed did not have access to, and Ed sighed in frustration. It was all such a fucking mess, and there was no way out of it while he was stuck in Roy's body. They could neither move forward or step back, and there was no way he could survive being locked in a desire-laden, baffling stalemate forever.

With a massive effort, Ed bullied himself to concentrate on the array, plunging himself into the twisting lines and forgetting all about his surroundings. He was right about the storage cells, he was sure of that, but the rest of it was a mystery, one that lingered just beyond the reach of his comprehension. There had to be some way to reverse it, but Ed did not even know where to begin.

Time slipped away from him, measured out in cups of coffee and the occasional stilted moment of conversation. Roy sat by the fire surrounded by open books, flicking between one and the next in a futile search for something useful.

Ed did not hear him move until a hand touched his shoulder. It was gentle, but it still sent a bolt of something right through Ed, and he jolted in surprise, straightening up too fast. Almost immediately the muscles in his back began to protest, and he winced at the discomfort. 'Crap,' he muttered, rolling his shoulders and rubbing at the back of his stiff neck. 'You're too old for this.'

'If you sat in a chair like a normal person, it wouldn't be a problem,' Roy retorted wearily. 'It's gone midnight. Go to bed before you give my body a permanent hunch.'

He could argue, could say that was not the way he got things done, but the aching tiredness in Roy's body was enough to make him hold his tongue. It had been through a lot today, and those events had taken their toll. Besides, Ed's head was buzzing with alchemy, and he knew he would find no order among the chaos if he stood here all night, poring over books and the smooth, sweeping lines of the array.

With a sigh, he did as he was told, following Roy out into the hall and up the stairs, barely listening as Roy pointed along the corridor. 'Spare bedroom's up there. You use the bathroom, and I'll get you some pyjamas.'

Ed stared after him stupidly for a moment, waking up a little as an important fact made itself known. He really should not have drunk so much coffee, because now Roy's bladder was making it really clear that it could not survive the night. Going for a couple of days without showering might not be pleasant, but it was possible. Using the toilet was another matter completely, and Ed grimaced before shuffling into the bathroom.

It was neat and spotlessly clean, and Ed would bet anything that Roy had a maid to tidy up after him. A quick investigation of the cupboards also revealed a new toothbrush and fresh towels, and he pulled them off the shelf and placed them by the sink before squaring his shoulders and facing the toilet.

He really had to go, and he tried to keep his mind blank and his eyes averted as much as possible while he answered the call of nature. Thinking about it in a purely biological sense made it a little easier, but a niggling little voice kept whispering that it was Roy's dick in his hand. He had dreamed about touching it before, but never for this purpose, or in these circumstances. One part of his mind was obsessed over the sheer weirdness of the situation, while another, darker part whispered, _It's bigger than you thought. Imagine what it would feel like..._

Hastily, Ed adjusted his clothing and pulled the flush, trying to ignore the burning heat in his face as he washed his hands. Murmurs of temptation curled through his head, begging him to touch the uncharted territory of Roy's physique while he had the chance, but Ed forced his mind away from that dangerous precipice. He might be in Roy's body, but that did not give him any right to do anything with it, no matter how much he wanted to.

Water splashed in the sink as he washed his face and brushed his teeth. When he was done, he opened the door and peered out into the corridor. There was no sign of Roy, although the light glowed from under the door to what he assumed was Roy's bedroom. His feet wanted to walk to it, and he had to force himself to carry on along the hallway to the spare room.

A single bed covered in a thick quilt and blanket stood in the middle of the room, and a small desk and wardrobe were against one wall. It looked like a room that was rarely used, and Ed flicked the bedside lamp on before reaching for the pyjamas that lay on the bed. After a moment of hesitation, he began to undo the shirt, reminding himself that it was just a human body, nothing more than anatomy. Just because it was Roy's did not make it anything special.

Ed almost believed himself, but when the cotton shirt whispered to the floor, a movement on the other side of the room caught his eye. He had not seen the full-length mirror before, but now he was offered a clear view of Roy's bare chest, broad shoulders and flat stomach. It was a thrilling sight, and Ed cleared his throat awkwardly, suspecting that he should look away but not quite able to do so.

Roy was in excellent shape for someone who spent most of his time behind a desk, although Ed did notice that it was more about looking good than functional strength. There was nothing disproportionate about his body, no ugly Automail or angry red scars, although one or two silver lines charted their way across pale flesh.

Before Ed could stop himself, his fingers reached out to touch them, tracing along the old injuries as he wondered what had caused them. Roy was a soldier, of course, so they could have happened in the line of fire, maybe when Roy first joined up?

Ed's eyes were drawn down the mirror's image towards the dark blue trousers that rested just below the jut of his hip bones. They were normally held up a bit higher by the belt, but Ed had left that undone after using the bathroom, and now all he could think was that maybe Roy had the right to be so smug. After all, there was no denying the way he looked: practically perfect. Roy was the embodiment of everything Ed had wanted since he hit puberty.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Ed turned away, kicking of the military boots and sitting on the bed to pull of his socks. The soft carpet felt strange under his left foot, and he wriggled his toes experimentally before undoing the trousers and pushing them off. Ed's hands lingered on the waistband of Roy's boxers, but in the end he decided to leave them on, choosing instead to drag on the pyjama pants and shirt before clambering into bed and switching off the light.

He expected to fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, but instead Ed found himself staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of the borrowed body in which he lay. Every position he tried felt uncomfortable, and the pyjama top pulled at him like a straight-jacket until he took it off and hurled it into the corner of the room with a snarl.

Flopping back onto the mattress he shifted uncomfortably, aware of the sulky twinge of muscles. Both body and mind knew they were not sleeping in their respective, familiar beds, and the result was that it was almost impossible to relax and drift off. He could hear the tick of Roy's watch where it still lay in the pocket of the uniform trousers, now discarded on the floor, and the sounds of the city at night kept tweaking at his ears. All the while his mind was balancing on a see-saw, trying to solve two problems at once: the array and Roy.

At some point, he fell into a shallow sleep, but the noises of the real world never seemed to fade away, and Ed's mind never really shut down. One hot, heavy dream after another fluttered through his head, each saturated with want. Phantom kisses whispered over his skin, and ghostly hands stroked across his body and down between his legs, inching him towards the edge of release. Roy's soft moan seemed loud in Ed's ears, and the unfamiliar noise was enough to drag him back to full awareness.

He was lying on his back with the blankets dragged low around his hips, but it was not the chilly night air that had caught his attention, it was the throbbing hardness between his legs. His right hand had slipped beneath his pants and boxers to curl its fingers around the hot length, and Ed stifled a whimper at the epicentre of pleasure that emanated from down there.

Even though part of Ed's mind knew he should not be touching Roy's body like this, he was helpless to stop himself, and he arched his hips as he stroked his palm along to the tip and back again, sending heat arcing along his nerves like lightning. Roy had probably done this hundreds of time, and that image did not help Ed's predicament one bit.

He was so hard it hurt, and Ed almost sobbed as he dragged his hand away, forcing his palm to press against that toned stomach instead. This whole episode was going to make his life difficult enough, but he would never be able to keep his distance from Roy again if he jerked off tonight. It was a line Ed refused to cross. Besides, even if he did give in to the need, how was he going to explain cum-stained boxers when the dawn broke over the horizon?

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to think of something, anything, to take his mind off the pulsing erection trapped in his underwear. Chemical equations and alchemical theories ran through his head and, after what felt like agonising hours, his arousal ebbed to a sulky ember glowing in the pit of his stomach.

Now, the bed seemed more uncomfortable than ever, and Ed tossed and turned, beating his pillows into submission and sprawling across the mattress as he tried to find peaceful slumber. In the end, he gave up, swinging his legs over the edge and getting to his feet. If he could not sleep, then he might as well do something useful. The array was still waiting for him downstairs, and at least if he was focussing on alchemy then he was not thinking about Roy.

Normally when he got up in the middle of the night, he had to creep with extra care so that his mismatched footsteps would not disturb Al. This time he moved along the hall without the smallest sound, picking his way down the stairs and heading towards the living room door. The glow of the dying fire still shaped the darkness, and Ed tiptoed in, focussing on the desk and the plate that still lay on its surface.

'What are you doing awake?'

The question made him jump out of his skin, and he whipped around, his heart in his throat as he stared at the figure curled up on the sofa. Blankets draped over Roy's shoulders, and gold hair was a haphazard mess around his face. He looked exhausted, but the glare he was giving Ed was strongly reminiscent of Al: protective and caring to the point of ferocity.

'I couldn't sleep,' Ed replied roughly. 'That bed is the most uncomfortable thing I've ever lain on, and that's saying something.' He scratched his cheek to hide his ebbing shock at finding Roy downstairs. 'Besides, I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were tired?'

Roy ducked his head, shoving the loose blonde hair irritably behind his ear as he glared at the fire. For a minute, Ed thought his question would go ignored, but eventually Roy muttered his answer, head turned away like he was ashamed to meet Ed's eyes. 'I never realised how painful the Automail is. It stopped me getting to sleep.'

It was impossible not to feel sorry for him, which prickled at Ed's conscience, because he knew how much _he_ hated being the object of other people's sympathy. Roy probably would not like it either, but Ed still remembered with vivid clarity the ghostly ache of an arm he no longer had. It had been intolerable in those first few months and, mentally, that was exactly where Roy was.

Moving closer, he gave Roy a gentle shove, rolling his eyes when all he got was a scowl for his efforts. 'Sit on the floor, and drop the blankets. I'll see if I can help.' When Roy hesitated, Ed lifted his eyebrow, something this face seemed to do almost instinctively. 'Unless you want to spend a sleepless night sulking about how much it hurts?'

To his surprise, Roy eventually obeyed, sitting on the floor as Ed sat on the couch behind him, positioning himself so that Roy was between his knees. It was not exactly a platonic position, but Ed forced himself to keep his voice light as he asked, 'Can you point to where it hurts?'

He expected Roy to point to the metal arm first, but instead his left hand went to his shoulder blade, touching shyly at the point of discomfort. He was still wearing Ed's black vest, but Ed did not need to see beneath the fabric to know he was touching at the scarred ridge at the bottom edge of the port. It was good, in a way, because that meant that there was a physical element to the pain, not just a psychological cause.

Gently, Ed pressed his fingertips to the thin fabric, rubbing the muscles beneath the same way that Winry used to do when he was still recovering. 'You've been compensating for the drag of the arm when you didn't have to,' he explained. 'You've made my back feel like knotted rope. I know the Automail's weird, but it works. You need to actually use it, or the whole thing will seize up and Winry will smash that skull in with a wrench.'

'Sorry,' Roy murmured, picking at the blankets that pooled around his waist with his left hand. 'I'm trying to get used to it, but –'

'But your brain's spazzing out about it,' Ed finished. 'I know. Is your leg all right?'

Roy nodded, his breath escaping in a contented sound as Ed began to knead his back with a bit more pressure, smoothing out spasms as best he could. It was almost impossible to ignore the intimacy of this situation and, no matter how much he told himself that he was doing it for the benefit of his body, Ed could not help but feel a flicker of satisfaction at Roy's obvious appreciation.

Within ten minutes, Roy was utterly relaxed, lolling back against the couch and almost purring, and Ed wondered how often anyone bothered to make sure he was comfortable like this. The fact that this body's back panged on occasion was evidence enough that Roy's muscles could benefit from the same treatment. Had no one ever done this for him before? Had they not treated him like something worth looking after?

Ed shook the thought aside, reluctantly drawing his hands away from the warmth of Roy's back. His palms itched with the desire to stay where they had been, to skim the planes and ridges of the smaller body sitting on the floor, but he could not. If he did, then he was not sure he would have the strength to stop Roy's body taking it all the way, and that would be too much of a strange twist in this already surreal mess of event.

An abrupt yawn swelled his chest, and when he opened his eyes again Roy was watching him with an uncertain expression on his face. Finally, Mustang spoke, his voice light and casual.'I've never been able to sleep in that spare bed. The mattress is like a slab of granite, and that body hates it.' He bit his lip, which Ed reminded himself never to do again when he was back in his own body; it made him look his age - young and vulnerable. 'You can sleep in the normal bed if you want. It's a double and, like this, I can't sleep on my usual side of the mattress anyway. It feels too strange.'

Ed's hesitated, unsure if this was a wise idea. He needed sleep, and this body wanted its own bed with an almost childish petulance, but sleeping next to Roy? It was bad enough if they got too close when fully dressed and standing up, but lying down and wrapped within the intimate warmth of a bed?

Indecision left him paralysed, but even as the panic welled through his mind, the decision was made for him. Roy's body was weary to the bone and had no qualms about making that clear. The joints ached, and every muscle felt like rusting metal, brittle and useless. Ed really did not have a choice.

'I could always take the couch?' he asked, knowing as soon as Roy smiled that it was not an option.

'You won't sleep any better than in the spare bedroom. I've tried it before.' He shook his head and got to his feet, gathering the blankets around his shoulders and heading towards the door. 'Come on. You complained enough about how stupid you feel in my body. Do you have any idea how much worse it will be if you don't get any sleep?'

Mutely, Ed gave in, following Roy out of the door and up the stairs, all the while trying not to think about the fact that he would be sleeping in Mustang's bed. Excuses rattled through his head, but he could not bring himself to voice them as he followed Roy across the threshold.

He had never allowed himself to imagine the inside of Mustang's bedroom before, and he had to admit he was surprised at how normal it was. Considering the man's reputation, he had expected some kind of kinky playground, but it echoed the same theme as the rest of the house: relaxed sanctuary, and he felt the tension seep from his muscles even as he examined his surroundings.

The bed stood square in front of a fireplace, bigger than a normal double and clearly designed with comfort in mind. There were bedside tables, a wardrobe, all the usual bedroom furniture. It was not what the room contained, though, that put Ed at his ease, but the familiarity of this place on a basic level. His mind was curious, but his body felt like it had reached a true inner sanctum, where nothing could threaten it and everything was right with the world.

Roy had already clambered into bed and collapsed into the pillows with a soft sound of pleasure. He started off curled up but, within a minute, Ed's body assumed its natural sprawled sleeping position, and Ed snorted in disbelief. 'Are you going to share the bed or what?' he asked.

'Thought you were going to stand by the door all night,' Roy muttered sleepily, tucking in his left arm and at least giving Ed enough space to lie down. 'Not my fault what your body does.'

Ed was too tired to think of a response, and he muttered something bad-tempered and unintelligible as Roy's body curled up on its side like a peg finding the right shaped hole. This was where it belonged, and all the stress that had twisted him up like a wire vanished.

His last thought before dreams claimed him was that, despite everything, sharing this bed with Roy felt like the most natural thing in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Roy stirred, nosing into the pillow and sighing against the white sheets. It was morning; he could feel the weak sunlight warming his arm where it lay draped over another body, but he could not bring himself to open his eyes. He was relaxed, comfortable and, if it were not for the strand of hair tickling his nose, he could have happily drifted off once more.

He tried to twitch away from the soft irritation, letting out a quiet sound of annoyance when it followed him. Blindly reaching out to brush the tress aside, Roy frowned as his pinching fingers sparked a corresponding twinge of pain on the crown of his head. The hair was attached to him. He did not think that he needed a trim that badly. What was - ?

Wakefulness broke upon him, bringing with it a tide of memories from the previous day. He was stuck in Ed's body, the victim of an alchemical joke, and the solid weight next to him was not that of a lover, but his own flesh and blood, currently occupied by Ed's mind.

Opening his eyes, Roy realised he was curled round Ed's temporarily bigger frame, nose almost touching his shoulder blades. He must have moved in the night, because Ed was lying in exactly the same pose that he had assumed when he had climbed between the sheets. Judging by his steady breathing, he was still deep in sleep. It was Saturday, and Roy knew what his body expected of the weekends. Whenever he was not called into the office, he considered it his duty to stay in bed for as long as possible and get the rest he deserved.

He suspected that Ed would probably be at the mercy of slumber for several hours yet, and Roy shifted, propping himself up on his right elbow and staring blearily around his bedroom. The Automail moved in smooth silence, complying with his unconscious orders, and Roy stared at it in surprise. Yesterday he had been terrified of using it, worried about the pain or, worse, damaging this borrowed frame and its prosthetics. Ed had kept saying he should let it do its job: it turned out Fullmetal was right.

Roy stared at the peaceful face he never thought he would see outside of a mirror or a photograph, taking in the line of his cheekbones and the straightness of his nose. He had been told his looks were exotic before, but even seeing himself from this alien perspective, Roy was still baffled that others found his appearance so appealing.

Something like hunger rumbled in the pit of his stomach, and Roy winced as a familiar heat began to simmer through him. He might see nothing special, but Ed's body reacted to the visual none-the-less. While Roy's mind remained ambivalent, every inch of his skin itched to press close to the prone form next to him. He wanted to nuzzle that neck and stroke smooth muscles. He wanted to kiss and explore every inch as if it were unknown territory rather than something mundane, and all that quickly grew into a deeper, carnal twist of want that left Roy with a dry mouth and a rapidly burgeoning erection.

Flopping down onto the pillow, Roy lay on his back, keeping both hands very much above the waist. Why was this happening? He knew about the games of lust and the laws of attraction, he knew every nuance of desire, yet he could not bring himself to believe the explanation that kept coming back to him. It was impossible! There was no way that Edward Elric could possibly want him as a lover.

Was there?

The idea of sharing a deeper relationship with Ed sent a lance of pleasure through Roy's mind, and he screwed his eyes up tight, trying to reach for some control as the throbbing hardness twitched in his boxers, more insistent and demanding than standard morning wood. The very idea of Ed returning his hidden desire with equal intensity ignited a bright, dangerous flare of hope, and Roy gritted his teeth, trying to remind himself that it was all in vain.

Ed shouted at him, he ranted and railed and yelled all manner of abuse. Roy thought his expression was always hot with anger, nothing more, and his quick breaths and uncontrolled trembling were born of rage. Now he was being told another story. This flesh keened and whimpered and wailed, lust intensified by the sheer strength of hormones that Roy had not had to deal with for fourteen years. In this body, want was not a tender flame; it was a blowtorch that threatened to burn down every ounce of his control.

He could not stay here. Lying this close to Ed, whatever appearance he currently possessed, was a bad idea. It rattled Roy's cage too much, clouding his thoughts and whittling him down to the lowest common denominator of desire. Yesterday, he had tried to hide it, had wished away every sign of arousal and each husky word, but if Ed woke up now there was nothing in the world that could disguise what was happening to Roy, and he was not brave enough to find out where that revelation might take them.

Carefully, he slipped out of the bed, trying to ignore the ache between his legs as he tiptoed across the floor, scooping up an armful of clothes and Ed's boots as he went. It was impossible to be silent, but Ed was too lost in sleep to notice his departure as Roy slipped out of the bedroom. Shutting the door, he leaned against the wood, tipping his head back and surrendering himself to the spiral of his thoughts.

If his instincts were right, if Ed did want him, then Fullmetal had far more control than Roy had ever given him credit for. He had kept all this concealed for who knew how long, and Roy had remained oblivious. Now all he could think was that, for every moment that Ed's flesh told him what it wanted, Roy's body would be whispering the same secrets to Ed's mind. All it would take was for one of them to challenge the other, to drag the issue out in the light, and the tentative equilibrium between them could shift forever, for better or worse.

Roy was not sure he was ready for that. It was easy for him to deprive himself when he had not suspected that Ed returned his want. He told himself it was nothing but wishful thinking and regretfully left it at that. Yet, in the space of a day, Roy had been left with plenty of evidence refuting his belief of Ed's indifference.

Should he pretend he was blind to the responses of Ed's body, or should he say something about it? Even as the question crossed Roy's mind, he already knew the answer. Dragging this out in the open now would be a futile exercise. They could not do anything to ease the tension between them as they were. The thought of taking Ed into his bed for more than sleep was thrilling when Ed inhabited that silver and gold physique, but when he was encased in Roy's skin it was too surreal. Even if it were not for the undeniably narcissistic twist the proceedings would take, there was still the whole issue of equipment.

His face heated, and Roy sighed in disbelief. Ed had not taken his propensity for embarrassment with him, and it seemed he flushed at the most ridiculous things. Roy was a confident lover, and he took pride in his ability to please his partners, but while the theory was firmly seated in his head, he was not sure if he could put that into practice while in this state.

Ed was by no means lacking in _any_ department, but Roy was too unfamiliar with this combination of flesh and steel. Ed made every movement look easy, but Roy felt like a puppet with knotted strings half the time, graceless and awkward. When he took Ed as a lover, he wanted to be able to give the act his everything, not be struggling for the most basic elements of control.

Roy scowled, realising he had just thought “when” rather than “if”. This whole thing was messing with his head, and thinking about sex, however objectively, was doing nothing to ease the fierce heat between his legs. If he were in his own body, he would have thought nothing of dealing with himself, but now it felt like taking advantage. He did not have Ed's permission, and there was no way Roy could bring himself to ask for it, so where did that leave him?

As far as he could see, he had two options. He could either ignore his sharp state of arousal, which had not worked so far, or he could take a cold shower and hope that the problem would stay manageable until Ed was back where he rightfully belonged. Neither idea was perfect, and Roy scratched his forehead with cool metal fingertips before squaring his shoulders and moving towards the bathroom.

He had to think about it logically, he told himself as he turned on the taps, flicking the temperature down low. Ed had nothing he had not seen before and, besides, it was not like he was planning to _look_. Going to the toilet had been a challenge, but he had managed. This just involved a little more nudity, that was all.

Roy swallowed, his hands hesitating on the hem of the black vest before he peeled it off and eased away the boxer shorts. Ed's erection jutted from the dark blonde curls between his legs, and Roy let out a shuddering breath, fighting against the temptation to stroke along its hard length. It would be the point of no return; he had to resist. Biting his lip, Roy kept his eyes fixed on the clean, white tiles as he stepped under the shower spray.

Cold showers were never pleasant, but as soon as the water touched his skin it was obvious that this body loathed the experience. His spine arched away and his breath hissed between his lips, his chest jolting at the shock. The Automail turned to ice within moments, and Roy winced as it tightened at the ports, vice-like and painful.

Groping with his left hand, he adjusted the taps to a more reasonable temperature, waiting for the sharp tension to ease away from his muscles. At last, warm rivulets ran over softly tanned skin, and his eyes narrowed to slits. Wet hair was heavy, and Roy told himself it was the weight of it that made him tip his head back in appreciation. Something like a purr wanted to rumble beneath his ribs, and he pursed his lips together to suppress it.

Heat must be like a drug to Ed, something he normally craved and, now he thought about it, Roy felt as if he had been struggling to stay warm since this had happened. Alone in bed the previous night he had found himself coiled up in a ball, awake and miserable beneath the blankets. It was only when Ed had joined him that he had found any solace and, when he had woken up, Roy had been practically glued to the source of heat at his side.

Opening his eyes, Roy grimaced through the clouds of steam towards the ceiling. He had to admit, being draped around Ed was probably only partly to do with keeping warm. Even when awake and alert, he found himself edging nearer to Ed's side. Mentally and physically, he wanted to close the distance between them. There was a time when he had thought it would never be bridged, that they would always be at odds, but he was beginning to realise that he had been imagining obstacles where there were none.

He prided himself on reading people but Ed defied him: unpredictable as always.

Lazily, Roy reached out for the shampoo, lathering his hair on auto-pilot and pulling a face when he remembered there was far more of it to deal with than normal. Usually, he treated showers like a brief, necessary part of his regime, but he was starting to think that it was something Ed savoured. Every movement was slow and easy, and Roy was very aware of the skim of lather down his back, curving lower as the water dappled his skin.

Soon enough, the golden hair was an unruly riot of strands that washed over his shoulders like seaweed, and his skin was squeaky clean. The Automail did not seem to have suffered, and it glimmered with a damp sheen as he flicked off the water and reached for the towels. They were warm from the hot radiator, and Roy stepped out of the shower, wrapping one around his waist and tackling his hair with the other.

Finally, it was as dry as it was going to get without alchemical assistance, and he dropped the smaller towel to his shoulders as he blinked around at the steamy bathroom. The mirror had been turned opaque by the vapour, and he cuffed it aside, leaving streaks of water across the pane as he took in his reflection.

It was strange seeing Ed's face in there, but Roy could not resist leaning a little closer, taking in the tiniest details he had never had the chance to notice before. The first faint frown-line was etching itself into Ed's brow, and there was a dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose: a memento from summer. Roy had always known that Ed's eyes were golden, but he had never been able to see the topaz flecks in his irises before.

There was no denying it, Roy thought as he leaned back, Ed had grown into a stunning young man. He was not classically handsome - there was nothing so standard about his features, but the combination was captivating. Roy had to admit that he could have ended up in a much less attractive body.

His eyes dropped down the reflection, taking in the broad, strong shoulders and muscular chest that narrowed to a wicked little waist. There was hardly any fat on Ed's bones, which was a miracle considering how much he ate. His physique was not crafted to please the eye, either, although it definitely succeeded in that respect; it was about function. His muscles worked hard, and Roy had seen Ed in a fight. He was not just graceful, he was strong, easily able to knock a much bigger man out with a punch from his left fist, let alone his right.

Yet that lifestyle had taken its toll. The most obvious scars curved in dark lines around the Automail port, a gruesome testimony to the pain Ed must have had to endure to have it installed. Pursing his lips, Roy looked at other, older wounds. It was not only the surface that bore the story of Ed's violent life. There were several aches that Roy had noticed, worse when he was cold, that spoke of broken bones now healed. To say Ed had been through the wars was an understatement, and guilt flickered across Roy's mind as he wondered how many injuries Ed had received on the assignments he doled out.

One mark in particular caught Roy's eye, and he reached up to touch the large scar on Ed's stomach. It must have been a bad injury, and one he gained while in military service. Ed's reports were patchy at best, and Roy scowled as he tapped one finger against the pink skin. It looked strange, unlike anything he had ever seen, dappled and pulled taut as if it had healed too quickly. When had it happened, and how long had Ed kept it hidden?

With a sigh, Roy reached for his toothbrush and set about his usual morning routine, promising himself he would ask Ed about the unusual scar later. There was so much about Ed's life he did not know, and every minute in this body made Roy realise how much more there was to him than the loud-mouth subordinate he was faced with each day. Ed had grown up, and part of Roy wished he had been paying more attention.

A brief memory alighted on his mind, bright and colourful, and he examined his unusual reflection more closely. Yesterday, when trying to prove their situation was not a joke, Ed had reluctantly mentioned something about a tattoo. Roy could have told him that getting drunk while at Havoc and Breda's mercy was a dangerous game, but he could not deny that he was curious about the outcome. Ed had seemed almost humiliated by the confession, and now Roy turned to the side, trying to see any inky shadows that might stain his skin.

There was nothing to see above the waist on either his chest or his back, and Roy glanced down at the towel that charted a clear boundary around his hips. Clearly the design was out of sight, and he hesitated for only a moment before dropping his hands to the white cotton and shimmying it downwards. Surely Breda and Havoc would draw the line at letting some tattoo artist doodle anywhere too intimate, wouldn't they?

There was nothing on the jutting angle of his hips, and he turned around with a frown, looking over his shoulder at the expanse of Ed's back. The towel dipped a little further, finally revealing a dark, flowing shape. It was on the left-hand side, and it would never be seen unless Ed wore no shirt and some scandalously low trousers.

Roy squinted, trying to make sense of the outline in the mirror. It looked tribal, more about swirls and curves than straight lines, but at last he realised what he was seeing. No taller than his little finger was long, it was a stylized rearing horse, front hooves pawing at the air. As tattoos went, it could have been a lot worse. Roy had known some soldiers to wake up with obscenities written across their foreheads, and he wondered why Ed had seemed so ashamed of it.

Reaching around, Roy brushed his fingertip over the design, raising an eyebrow at the reflected image. To him, the small inked picture was about wildness and strength, both of which Ed had in spades, and the more he turned it over in his mind, the more he thought that Breda and Havoc had selected a strangely suitable picture.

A suspicion niggled at the back of his mind. He knew his men well, and there was always some underlying joke to their actions. He doubted their intentions had been so straightforward, and Roy grunted in irritation. It felt like he was missing something, some kind of nuance that was right under his nose, but he could not work it out.

Casting aside his curiosity, Roy bent down and scooped the clothes off the floor, feeling the leather trousers cling to his palm as he sorted out what he had to wear. It had been tempting to put on his own things, but there was no way they would fit. Ed was slimmer than Roy, not to mention shorter, and he had enough trouble without rolling up sleeves and falling over hems all day.

Quickly, he dropped the towel, doing his best not to look down with too much interest as he pulled on clean underwear and dragged the supple leather pants up over his hips. They fitted like a glove, and Roy made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. The view was enough to derail his thoughts into the gutter, and he bit his lip as he stared. Ed rarely wore that familiar red coat any more, and Roy had spent a lot of time both cursing and blessing the short black jacket for the view it offered him when Ed was in the office.

Now, without a shirt on, Ed was the picture of masculinity. Gold, damp hair clung to his shoulders and back, drawing the eye down over shifting muscles to that tapered waist. Roy had no idea how Ed saw himself, but, to him, there was nothing that did not stir his appreciation. He had wanted to know this body intimately for what felt like years and, even now he was in it, it was still stunning to him.

Looking away, Roy grabbed the vest from the floor, tugging it over his head as he firmly reminded himself that such thoughts were more inappropriate than usual. This whole situation was confusing enough without losing himself to a haze of lust. Ed's body was flesh and blood, a living, breathing prison for Roy's mind; he had to remember that.

From somewhere beneath his belt, a loud grumble stirred the air, making him lift a hand to his belly. Breakfast was something he could not put off much longer and, with a sigh, Roy opened the door, flicking off the light and creeping down towards the kitchen. The tiles were cool beneath his foot, but Roy ignored the sensation as he opened the larder, looking over the supplies Ed had procured the previous day. Before long, bacon was sizzling in the frying pan and toast was browning under the grill. The kettle whistled to announce it had boiled, and Roy gathered up his makeshift breakfast before settling at the table.

His left leg folded up under him without any conscious thought, and the right elbow propped itself on the table while agile flesh fingers grabbed the fork. It was as if Ed's body could happily go through the motions of silencing his stomach without any intervention from the mind, and Roy smiled. No doubt Ed normally ate meals with a book open next to him, but now there was nothing to occupy his eyes except the familiar prospect of the kitchen, and Roy quickly slid into the daze of his thoughts.

He was just finishing off the last bit of bacon when someone knocked on the door. It was a quiet sound, as if whoever it was knew the occupier would probably still be in bed and was happy to come back later, if necessary. Narrowing his eyes in puzzlement, Roy wandered out into the hall, twitching the curtains aside for a brief look at his visitor.

Maes was leaning against the door-frame, watching the street with casual interest. There was a cooking pot in his hands, probably something Gracia had whipped up, and a bundle of papers tucked under one arm. Letting the curtain fall back into place, Roy unlocked the front door, making sure to keep well back from the threshold. It would be very hard to explain to any neighbours why it seemed as if Fullmetal was answering his front door at this time of the morning.

'Ed?' Hughes asked, but there was a lot more hope than belief in his voice, and he sighed when Roy shook his head.

'It's still me, Maes. Come in.' He moved aside, shutting the door once Hughes had crossed the threshold. Their friendship was too deep to require anything in the way of a standard greeting, and Roy smiled as Hughes made his way through to the kitchen, putting the pot on the surface and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

'I was hoping it would all be sorted out by now,' Hughes said, raising his eyebrows as he took a sip. 'It's pretty rare that Ed can't work out something to do with alchemy.'

Roy picked up his own half-finished drink and jerked his head towards the living room. 'You might as well sit where it's comfortable. We're having a bit of a problem with the whole "genius" thing, anyway.' He nudged open the door and moved towards the fire, scowling as he wondered how to light it. He could try the clapping thing, but he was more likely to burn the house down than get a comfortable blaze.

Putting down his coffee, he groped along the bookshelf for some chalk, talking as he drew on the hearth close to the grate. 'It seems as if intelligence is hard-wired into the physical brain. I've got the genius part, and Ed's got all the memories of studying that make it useful.' He swore, rubbing out a mistake. It was difficult to draw neatly with his left hand, but he doubted that the right would be much better.

'So what does that mean?' Hughes asked, waiting until Roy touched the array and the fire burst into life before he actually sat down, dumping the papers on the coffee table as he did so.

'Just that it's going to take us longer than one night to figure out how to undo this.' Roy grabbed his mug, ambling over to his favourite armchair and slumping in its depths. He tried to prop his feet on the coffee table, only to groan in frustration as he realised his legs were not quite long enough, and Hughes' half-stifled laughter only made matters worse.

'Believe me,' he muttered. 'I'm working on it as fast as I can. I don't want to be stuck in this body a moment longer than necessary.' Roy glared at Hughes. 'Do you remember what it's like being a teenager?'

Hughes screwed up his face, and Roy knew what he was thinking. Yes, they could both remember being that young, it was not really that long ago, but somehow their minds glossed over the gritty details and shrouded a difficult time in the haze of reminiscence.

'I take it you're not having fun?' Hughes asked, propping his chin in his hand as he watched Roy intently. Roy suspected it was force of habit. Maes was used to having to search his impassive expression for little clues about Roy's mood but, like this, he need not have bothered. No matter how hard he tried, Roy could not keep Ed's expression under control. His eyes rolled of their own accord, and his shoulders shifted in that teenage shuffle-shrug he had watched Ed do more times than he cared to count.

His tongue wanted to add a curse or two to his general litany of complaint, but Roy bit down on the urge, satisfying himself with something suitably vague. 'I don't remember it being this intense.' When Hughes raised his eyebrows in question, Roy explained, 'I seem to feel everything more, not physically, but emotionally. I never realised he was so –'

'Passionate?' Hughes suggested.

'I was going to say “volatile”, actually.' Roy murmured, taking another sip of his coffee as he watched Maes' lips twitch in a barely suppressed smile. 'What?'

'Nothing. It's just difficult to convince my brain that I'm talking to Roy, that's all. Ed's voice, Ed's face... .' He shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose. 'I have to keep reminding myself that it's you in there. I almost believed it was a dream when I woke up this morning.'

'Believe me,' Roy murmured, 'it's real. You think it's hard for you? You have no idea what it's like to look in the mirror and see someone else's face. It's not like we have a clue how it happened.'

Hughes nodded his head towards the documents on the table. 'Perhaps those will help. After I dropped you off here, I went back to the house and looked for anything that might be useful.' He scratched at his eyebrow thoughtfully as Roy leaned forward, stretching out to grab the slim sheaf. 'There's not much. I thought alchemists were meticulous about keeping notes, but that's all I got.'

'Whoever created the array would have known that what they were doing nudged the boundary of illegal alchemy. They wouldn't have kept anything but the most essential documents.' Roy skimmed his gaze down the first page, grimacing as he realised it was all in code. Only the doodles in the margins gave any indication that alchemy was the subject, and that was probably why Hughes had picked them up. 'Thanks for thinking of this. I can't believe it slipped my mind.'

'I think it's forgiveable,' Hughes said with a smile, but it faded quickly, replaced with familiar concern. 'Are you holding up okay?'

Roy nodded, flicking through the dozen or so pages in his hands before looking up at his friend. 'It's fine as long as I don't think about it too hard. If I let myself dwell on the fact that I'm in the wrong body it all becomes a bit surreal. Unfortunately, there's always something to remind me. The Automail, the fact that everything's out of reach...' He grinned to himself, knowing that Ed would not appreciate that comment no matter how tall he had become. 'Fullmetal's been surprisingly helpful, though. It could be a lot worse. At least I've not been transported into a complete stranger.'

Hughes hummed in smug agreement, draining his coffee mug before slumping back into the sofa, hands tucked behind his head and his face a picture of innocence. 'Of course, it gives you a unique opportunity. How many people can honestly say they have looked at themselves through someone else's eyes? I guess you know what Ed really thinks of you, now.'

Roy glanced over the top of the papers at his friend. Hughes could be subtle when he wanted, but Roy knew when he was fishing for information, and now was a prime example. He was trying to get some kind of reaction but, as always, Roy was not going to give him the pleasure of letting his emotions onto his face.

Except that was easier said than done. The blush heated his cheeks almost instantly, and no amount of willpower could make it fade. Taking shelter behind the damp curtain of blonde hair was not working, either, and he scowled as Hughes' grin widened. 'No masks to hide behind now, Roy.'

'Stop it,' he said bluntly, giving Hughes a glare as he gritted his teeth. 'Just because I'm in Ed's body doesn't mean I know how he thinks. All I have is the physical shell, Maes. It's not like I can read his mind.'

Hughes shook his head, looking up at Roy's ceiling as if it held the answers to the mysteries of the universe. 'Don't be so coy. You know that's not what I meant. That "physical shell", as you put it, is the most honest part of any person. It reacts without concious thought or manipulation, surely you've realised that by now?'

Roy scowled, trying to ignore his friend's obvious delight. Hughes was right; in any interrogation the person being questioned could say what they wanted, but it was the little things that gave them away. In his own body he could control that, but now he was helpless. 'Are you trying to make some kind of point?' he asked gruffly, watching Hughes straighten up and prop his elbows on his knees.

'Only that there's a silver lining to this situation. You're getting a one-of-a-kind insight into what makes Ed tick, and he's getting the same thing.'

'Equivalent exchange,' Roy muttered, cringing anew. It was not that he did not trust Ed, but their tempestuous relationship could hardly be called friendly, and they were both always looking for ammunition to use against one another in a verbal face-off. Knowing that Ed was aware of every little urge of Roy's body was enough to make him feel painfully vulnerable.

'You don't need to look like that,' Hughes said, tipping his head to one side as he studied Roy's borrowed face. 'Have you ever thought it might not be a bad thing? I've watched you both dance around one another for months, and the tension's only got worse. Perhaps you can both stop fooling yourselves that it's all about anger.'

Roy pitched the papers back onto the table and folded his arms. 'You're seeing things,' he muttered, kicking at the coffee table sulkily before he realised what he was doing.

'Liar,' Hughes said with a grin, rubbing his hands together with glee. 'It's been years since I've been able to read you like this. It's actually fun.'

'So glad I can give you entertainment, Maes.' Roy scowled, clenching his jaw as he glared towards the fire. 'The most important thing is to get back into the right body.' He waved his hands in emphasis, wincing as the Automail gave a little twinge. 'Besides, the physical reactions are only one part of the equation. You can be attracted to someone and still hate them.'

Roy frowned as he realised what he had admitted, but it was too late to take it back. Hughes was watching him with his eyebrows raised, torn between blatant amusement and more subtle approval, and Roy wished his friend would let it go. It was one thing to think of him and Ed together, but to have Hughes show even the smallest sign of encouragement gave life to the hope that glimmered beneath his ribs.

'Perhaps,' Hughes said in the end, 'but I don't think “hate” is the word for what you and Ed share. You've got to admit this situation isn't _all_ bad.' He shrugged, getting to his feet. 'It could be a blessing in disguise, just so long as you can undo it, of course.' Hughes' expression turned into a worried frown, and Roy knew that, for all his light-hearted comments, this had Maes worried. They were acting as if getting back to normal was a sure thing, and the lingering “what if” that they would fail lingered like a ghost in the room.

'We'll work it out, Maes,' Roy promised. 'Between us, I'm sure Ed and I can unravel the array. If we're still at a dead end tomorrow, then...' He shrugged, not knowing what to say. Dealing with this situation in the privacy of his home was one thing, but spending a working week in Ed's body was not a thought he relished. If nothing else, the sheer damage Ed could do to his career was enough to make him shudder. The wrong word in the wrong place and he could be kicked all the way back down to major. 'We'll think of something,' he finished lamely, getting up and forcing himself to smile. 'Go and enjoy your weekend, I'm sure you're taking Elysia to the park or something.'

'The zoo, actually,' Hughes replied, but his pinched expression did not fade. 'Just be careful, Roy. The alchemy could blow up in your face as easily as putting all this right. I don't want to be making any funeral arrangements. Don't let Ed talk you into doing anything stupid.'

'Maes, I've been dealing with Fullmetal for years. It'll be fine. Now go, please? Someone might as well enjoy themselves, and you've never missed a day with Elysia yet.'

With gentle urgings and repeated promises, Roy led Hughes to the door. Part of him wanted to ask his friend to stay, because having Maes here made the minefield of confusion a bit more bearable, even if he did make Roy face certain truths that he would rather ignore. However, with only him and Ed in the house, it meant there were less people to worry about if things did go wrong. Besides, the array had already swapped him and Ed over once; adding another body to the mix would only make matters worse.

With a wave of farewell, he saw Hughes off down the street, waiting on the shadowed doorstep until his friend was gone from sight. The morning air smelled crisp and clear, tainted with frost. Roy stifled a shiver before ducking back into the warmth of the house. The fire's glow beckoned to him, and he grabbed the notes from the table, picking up a pencil before he settled on the hearth and got to work.

The code was complicated, but he had dealt with worse. Scanning the page, Roy translated what he could. Once the key to the code was firmly in his head, the task became easier, and it was obvious a few paragraphs in that Maes had picked up something useful. The words told a story of almost surgical alchemy; it was agonisingly precise, and a large portion went into expounding theories on the separation between the body and mind.

Yet it was the sense of desperation he got from the original author that made Roy uneasy. It almost felt as if the alchemist had known his time was running out, and Roy wished he could believe it was an eagerness to see his hypotheses proven that led to the passion on the page. More and more, the sentences carried eerie undertones, and by the time he had deciphered some of the more rambling sections, Roy felt sick. The creator of this had not been interested in swapping bodies for curiosity's sake. Like so many others, he had been absorbed in the quest for eternal life. His intent had been to switch to a younger man and leave his victim to be burdened with his elderly frame.

It was not a practical joke, but a death sentence.

A loud noise upstairs made him jump, and Roy looked up at the ceiling as Ed spat a string of curses. In Roy's voice it sounded marginally more refined than normal, but anger was giving every word a sharp edge. From the sound of it, Ed had jerked awake and fallen out of bed. Briefly, Roy considered going to see if he was all right, but anyone seriously hurt did not tend to swear that much.

Returning to the pages in his grasp, Roy continued to read, smiling to himself as he heard Ed flick on the shower. He wondered how long the younger man had dithered over that before deciding that comfort over-ruled embarrassment. He tried not to think about what Ed might be doing other than getting clean and ignored the burn of a blush on his face as he attempted to lose himself in the text again, but it was no good. He was too distracted, his body tense and humming, painfully aware of Ed's presence.

Huffing a sigh, Roy got to his feet and went out into the kitchen, flicking the stove back on and preparing some breakfast. While lunch could be forgotten in the midst of the paperwork and alcohol could occasionally replace a decent dinner, the first meal of the day was something his body could not live without. In the interest of getting Ed into a good mood as soon as possible, Roy knew he would have to put a plate of food in front of him the moment he walked through the door.

The bacon was starting to curl when Ed shuffled in. Damp dark hair spiked at random, and Roy had to admit it looked attractively tousled. It was the kind of thing he struggled to achieve every day, and Ed managed it by accident. He had not shaved, which Roy was grateful for, not that he thought Ed was incapable, but he did not trust Ed not to slit his throat out of spite. The expression on his face was bleary at best, but it brightened considerably when Roy slid a plate across the table.

'Eat that,' he ordered, pouring two cups of coffee and setting one down beside Ed's hand. 'Did you sleep okay?'

'Fine,' Ed replied, mouth full and eyes focussed on the meal in front of him. 'Didn't mean to stay in bed so late. Should have known you were a lazy shit. Did you find anything out about the array?'

Roy narrowed his eyes in annoyance, but he took a deep breath. He should have known Ed would not bother with anything so straightforward as small talk. Quickly, he explained about the notes that Hughes had brought over. 'None of it seems immediately useful to our situation,' he said with a sigh. 'From the looks of things, reversing the process never crossed the man's mind. He was looking to hijack his way into a younger body and had no intention of going back.'

Ed grunted. There was no trace of the same faint horror that plagued Roy's thoughts, and he wondered if there was anything that could surprise Fullmetal anymore. After all the day-to-day cruelty he had seen was there anything another human could do that would leave Ed shaken, rather than bitter?

'In theory, every array can be reversed,' he said around a mouthful of toast. 'It's just that, the more complex the design, the harder it is to get it right when turning it around. Without understanding it, you can't guarantee you're not just making a bomb, rather than something useful.' He pushed the empty plate away with a clatter, leaning back in the chair.

Dark blue eyes were almost closed, but Roy did not miss the flicker of that gaze to the still-damp blonde hair around his shoulders. Perhaps Ed had been too tired to notice him in the shower, because a glimmer of something like embarrassment clouded his features. No doubt Ed was wondering exactly what Roy had seen during his ablutions but, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, the expression was instinctively suppressed.

No comment passed Ed's lips, and Roy watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose: an action that, to him at least, told him that Ed was trying to prioritise his concerns. It seemed that the alchemy won, because Ed got to his feet, grabbing his coffee and turning towards the living room. 'Are you coming or not, Mustang? I'm not digging you out of this hole all by myself.'

Stifling a sigh, Roy followed Ed through the house. The living room carpet whispered beneath his feet as he headed for the coffee table, noticing that Ed went straight for the plate. They had spent so long yesterday staring at it, almost willing the disc to give up its secrets, that now Roy could barely look at it without feeling a welt of resentment. He hated a puzzle that refused to be solved, and he should have known that Ed would be the same way.

Ed sat in the chair behind the desk, elbows propped on the surface and long fingers tunnelled into dark hair as he glared at the array, scowling in a way that Roy was sure would leave him with wrinkles. Yet while his mind was making an abstract note of flaws, his hands itched with the urge to reach out and stroke away the stress that stamped its mark over that face. It was strong enough to send a thrill of shock through Roy's mind. Basic physical attraction was one thing, but he had never imagined that Ed might feel compelled to soothe Roy's annoyance or distress.

It spoke of something deeper than simple lust, and Roy turned away quickly, trying to shove his focus onto something else rather than dwell on his latest discovery. There would be time for that later, when his body was his own once more and all of this was just a memory. For now, they both had to concentrate, and he was not about to let Ed get lost in the depths of alchemy alone. Roy was not accustomed to letting other people solve his problems, and this time was no different.

Grabbing the notes Maes had left, he resumed his reading, scribbling notes in the margins as he deciphered the code. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked in the peace as the fire crackled and burned. Apart from the occasional curse or passing comment, he and Ed worked in silence, going at the problem from two different angles as if they had worked together like this for their whole lives.

It was only when he reached the end of the slim dossier that Roy lifted his head, looking across the room to see that Ed was transcribing the design onto paper, no doubt breaking it down in search for some level of understanding. He had watched Ed draw arrays before, but he did not recall it being so painstakingly slow, and it took Roy a moment to realise why. Necessity meant Ed used his left hand to write and draw, and Roy had found that hard enough when charting a simple fire-based array this morning. Ed was picking out something far more complex, and Roy's body was firmly right-handed, leaving Ed trying to get his head around using a hand that must feel fundamentally wrong.

Getting to his feet, Roy wandered over and peered around Ed's arm. Even knowing what the array had done to them, it was hard not to admire the sheer complexity of its layout. It was a glorious tangle of lines, and Ed was pulling order from the chaos like someone plucking treasure from beneath stormy ocean waves.

'Could have done this in five minutes if I was in the right body,' Ed ground out, clearly frustrated almost to breaking point by the physical limitations imposed upon him.

'Then it wouldn't be a problem at all, would it?' Roy pointed out, sighing when Ed shot him a murderous glare. Pressing his lips shut, he continued to watch what Ed was doing, his brow wrinkling in a frown as something began to niggle at his mind. Ed had dismantled the array, and some of its components looked familiar.

'These are for balance,' he said, tapping them with a gleaming silver finger, 'I'm sure of it. Fire alchemy is incredibly precise, and more of the array is about controlling the air than it is about the flames. These are using the same fundamentals, but it's not gases that they are trying to keep in equilibrium, it's something else.'

Ed was staring down at the page, and Roy clenched his teeth as he was confronted with another of his own masks. Perhaps they were instinctive, but whatever was going on in Ed's head was a mystery to him. There were minute flickers of emotion, but Roy could not begin to work out what they were and his ignorance chafed at his pride.

'They remind me of the seal that used to be on Al's armour,' Ed said at last, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his hand across his forehead as he tried to explain. 'If you think of someone's personality and conciousness as a type of energy, you start to see how it can be used in arrays. That seal tied the energy of Al's -' He made an irritated noise before settling on a word. '-soul to the armour through the iron in the blood used to draw it. This is more complicated.'

Normally, when Ed explained something, Roy struggled to keep up, let alone follow him, but now several uncomfortable theories were stuttering through his mind. 'Is it the same kind of thing, something tying our respective souls to the wrong bodies?

Ed shook his head. 'It's more than that. Seals are easy to break, and this is changing things.' He sighed, stabbing the pencil into the blotter. 'When we were looking for the stone, there were a lot of books that talked about this kind of stuff, like alchemy and religion blended into one. If they were right, if a soul and body are two halves of a unique whole, then maybe this array is about making two mismatched pieces fit together. The “shape” of the soul is changed by the transmutation, and it flows back into the wrong body because that's where it fits after its been shoved through that thing.'

Roy stared at Ed's profile. In a twisted way, it made sense, and Ed had spent half his life reading the kind of books that would blur the line between alchemical science and metaphysical spirituality. To anyone in the street his idea would sound preposterous, and most alchemists would probably be sceptical, but anyone who had known the truth about what Al's armour contained would see things another way.

'It's just an idea,' Ed said quietly, 'but there's a book in the library that might help.' His eyes drifted to the bookcases by the fire, and when he spoke again his voice was firm with certainty. 'You won't have it, but if that's what this fucker was trying to do, then we're going to need it to start unpicking this mess.'

It took Roy a moment to notice that Ed was looking at him expectantly, and he frowned as he realised that Fullmetal was hoping he would retrieve the required volume. 'Why don't you go?' he asked. 'I don't know what I'm looking for.'

'Yesterday you said your reputation was too precious for me to be allowed out again,' Ed retorted, giving a little sneer. There was not any malice in it, though, and he reached for a scrap of paper. 'Besides, how often do people see your face in the library?'

'At least once a week,' Roy muttered. 'Normally I'm there chasing you down for a report.'

'I meant reading, Mustang.' Ed held out the paper, and Roy took it, looking down at his own handwriting, slightly wobbly under Ed's control. 'I can't remember the title, but that's the author's name and the rough shelf reference. Just grab everything that looks like it might match and bring it back. Oh, and if anyone gives you shit about a fine, just tell them you'll bring the book back tomorrow and to send the military the bill.'

Roy clenched his jaw, trying to think of a reasonable argument. The last thing he wanted was to go and wander around the library and leave Ed alone in his home, but no excuses sprang to mind. 'Fine,' he muttered at last, striding towards the door and only hesitating when Ed's voice called out behind him.

'Wear a coat, and don't take all fucking day!'

His hands moved on automatic, flipping up his middle finger, and Roy heard his own laugh coming from across the room. If he did not know any better, he would think that Ed was enjoying this. It was probably payback for all the times that Roy had plucked at the strings of Ed's temper until he was a helpless victim to the angry harmony.

Snatching Ed's black jacket off the coat rack, Roy shrugged it on, toeing his way into the battered boots before tugging open the door and slamming his way out of the house. It was only when he was at the bottom of the steps that he looked around guiltily, remembering that he was trying to keep Ed's presence in his home a secret. There was no one obviously watching, but Roy's mind leapt to fabricating a dozen useful excuses in case it turned out that someone had seen him.

It was not the neighbours' gossip that concerned him, but the fact that such whispers might make it back to the military. There were still a few rumours going around headquarters about the relationship he shared with Ed. When Fullmetal was a child they had been sickened and condemning, but as he flourished they had taken on an edge of jealousy. There was not as much censorship as there was envy, and Roy often found himself wishing that the rumours of Ed keeping his bed warm at night were more truth than fairytale.

Little had he imagined that Ed could be hoping for the same thing, and that knowledge sent the uneven see-saw of Roy's thoughts to wilder extremes. He was torn between heady elation and sick doubt, and there was no way to find a balance between the two. Perhaps …?

Shaking his head furiously, Roy hauled his thoughts back into line. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, he reminded himself that now was not the time to be dwelling on personal matters. True enough, being in Ed's body had opened his eyes to the possibilities of starting a relationship but, for as long as he was stuck like this, then there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe once he was back inside his own skull he would be able to see things rationally, but until that time he had to concentrate on the array and the alchemy. Ed seemed to be managing without any difficulty, so why was Roy having such a hard time doing the same?

With a frustrated sigh, Roy picked up his pace, letting smooth muscles and strong bones work in perfect harmony as he turned the corner and headed for the library. It was late morning, and the Saturday streets were bustling with people, but Roy moved through the crowd with ease.

More than once Roy felt as if he were being watched. It was probably something that Ed never noticed. In a safe environment, he tended to treat people like furniture, but Roy was more aware of his surroundings. It was not a threatening feeling - there was no malice in any gaze - just appreciation. Of course, it was not as if everyone in the street was staring at him, but several woman and one or two men did glance his way with something promising in their eyes.

It was idle want, Roy could see that, but it did not stop the jealousy from simmering in his mind. It was ridiculous to feel this way, but it was not a new emotion. He had seen heads turn in Ed's direction plenty of times at Headquarters, and Roy had pretended that it was the civilian clothes he wore, rather than anything else that caught people's attention. However, he knew lust when he saw it, and more than once he had found himself glaring cold, cruel daggers at some unfortunate soldier or secretary.

Ed was oblivious to it, he had to be, because even if he looked at Roy with desire, he would still rip him to shreds for his proprietary behaviour, and rightfully so. Roy had no claim to Ed whatsoever. He had no right to be jealous or to warn others off, but that fact did nothing to appease him; it only made things worse.

Roy forced himself not to visibly snarl as he headed for the stone lions and stamped up the steps, pushing his way into the library. Walking past the main desk, Roy realised he was taking bigger, quicker strides, and his jaw was clenched painfully tight. It seemed that Ed's body slipped into anger with very little prompting. It did not matter that it was Roy's mind that was sulking, Ed's flesh was reacting all the same. Was that just because Ed's default state leaned more towards fury than calm, or was there something more ominous to it?

The thought trickled through Roy's mind like melt-water, snuffing out the sulky flame of jealousy and leaving him cold. Ed had explained about the soul fitting back into the wrong body like a jigsaw piece reshaped to fit the incorrect neighbour. If that was the case, how long did they have before the disparities between the two began to fade? Originally, Roy had been completely out of tune with this frame, but as the hours had passed it had begun to seem less alien, and the boundary between mental and physical was starting to blur. Would there be a time, be it in a day a week or more, that he would forget he was wearing the wrong skin?

'I've got to find that book,' Roy muttered to himself, taking a deep breath and dragging the piece of paper out of his pocket before heading for the right aisle. Gloved hands shook a little as he walked his fingers along the spines, looking for the author's name. Roy paused, cuffing at his forehead and scowling upwards, standing on tiptoe to grab a likely volume as his thoughts raced around in his head.

When he had first woken up after the accident, it had been like riding a wild horse. He had very little control and the body seemed to have a mind of its own. Now things were starting to change. Roy had always had influence over the big things, like standard movement and functions, but the smaller reactions, rooted in instinct and muscle memory, were beyond him. In some respects, that still remained, but perhaps it was not as clear a divide as it had once been.

Snatching down two more likely candidates for the book Ed had mentioned, Roy scanned along the bookcases, bringing all of his concentration to bear on the rapid skim of titles and names. It was only when he was certain that the volume Ed wanted was one of the three in his hands that he turned to leave, weaving his way towards the librarian's desk. The girl behind the counter smiled at him, and he showed her the pocket-watch, knowing that Ed was in here so often they probably did not ask for it any more.

'The bindings are coming loose on this one,' the librarian said, giving him a faintly critical glare as if she thought it was his fault. 'I'll get it repaired before you go.'

Roy turned the watch idly in his Automail hand as he waited, listening to the librarian rummage amidst the mysterious supplies they kept under the desk. His metal fingers clanked quietly against the scuffed silverwork, and he scowled down at the time-piece. Ed probably never remembered to wind it, let alone give it a polish, and Roy gave it a futile buff with his coat sleeve.

The fabric caught on the catch holding it shut, and the lid eased open, revealing the clock-face. The glass was almost flawless, bar a few transmutation seams; Ed had clearly broken it more than once. Yet it was not that which caught Roy's attention. Hacked onto the inside of the case was a date, and the words “Don't Forget.”

Roy could guess what it meant, and guilty shadows darkened his mind as he eased the watch shut and slid it back into his pocket. Even being in Ed's body did not feel as much of an invasion of his privacy as the knowledge of what was inscribed in the watch lid, and Roy shifted uncomfortably. He occupied a shell that bore evidence of so much trauma, but it had never been more clear to him that the greater injuries were locked away in Ed's mind, a burden to carry with him always.

Ed never said a word or bemoaned his circumstances, he shouldered it all without complaint, but that did not mean the past no longer left its mark. Al might be whole again and the mess of their childhood put right, but clearly Ed had not let it slip from his mind. That, Roy thought, was where the hurt still lay, and maybe nothing would ever heal it.

More than once, he had wished there was something he could do to bring Ed out of the perennial shadow of his lingering guilt, but what was there? What could make happiness a permanent feature of Ed's life, rather than an occasional glimmer: sunlight breaking through the clouds?

'Here you go, sir.'

Roy looked at the librarian stupidly, muttering his thanks as he took the leather-bound volumes from her hand and walked away. His arms folded naturally around the books, cradling them against his chest without hesitation as he moved down the steps and back along the street towards home.

His mood had turned dark, like a fire going dead in the hearth, and the heavy weight of pity and remorse sat low in his chest. How many times had he watched Ed from behind a desk and cursed the course of events that had led the boy to the military? He had done all he could, but by the time he walked into Ed's life, the damage was done.

Ed's body seemed to respond to his thoughts, and he winced as the Automail tightened, more painful and crippling than before. He felt low and drained, and every step seemed to drag as he forced himself to shuffle on, staring at the pavement as the wind pitched defiant strands of his hair in all directions.

By the time he limped up the steps to his front door, he felt ancient, weighed down by sadness and left to rot. Raising his fist, Roy knocked on the door, trying to school his face into something approaching normalcy. If he had remembered his damn keys he could have slunk in and hidden somewhere, dumped the books and curled up in bed until Ed came looking for him, but that was not an option. He could not let Ed know that anything was wrong; the brat would ask questions, and what could Roy say?

He could not mention the watch; it was better to pretend he had never seen it. One day Ed would get close to someone, and maybe then he would begin to share the burden that drowned him day by day, but it was not Roy's place to force the issue. Ed would probably never forgive him for prying into that part of his life, even unintentionally. Scars were there on the skin to be seen, but that inscription was hidden away like a heartbreak, private, invisible and almost impossible to cure.

Before he had time to smooth out his face, the door opened and Roy shouldered his way inside, not daring to look up as he pushed it closed behind him. 'What took you so long?' he asked, talking to the floor. 'It's freezing out there.'

'I was finishing something off with the array,' Ed said, and Roy almost let a sigh of relief escape him. He knew that tone, even when it was the wrong voice lilted with its edge. Ed was engrossed in the alchemy, and that meant he probably would not notice if Roy dropped down dead at his feet. Without a word, he relinquished the books, looking up in time to see Ed turn back towards the living room.

'Coffee's in the kitchen,' Ed called over his shoulder absently, already flicking through the pages, 'and so's lunch.'

Roy waited until Ed was out of sight before hobbling towards the kitchen. He ate without sparing a thought for what was going in his mouth, moving on autopilot as he huddled in the chair. He did not know how long he sat there picking over food that could have been ash for all he cared, and it was only when he sensed a presence behind him that he gave a guilty start and looked over his shoulder.

Ed was leaning on the door-frame, arms folded as he watched Roy. It did not matter that it was dark eyes, rather than gold that met his gaze, Roy was still held transfixed. He braced himself for questions, knowing that Ed would demand to know what was wrong, and it was years of practice at turning conversations in his favour that made him speak up first, hoping to distract Ed while he could.

'I noticed something in the library today,' he said quietly, looking down at his hands. He had taken off the gloves to eat, and now he stared at the metal and skin as if seeing it for the first time. 'Yesterday it seemed like I was a passenger in your body, but today it's different. I'm more in control, not just over the big things, but the instincts, too.' He shrugged, scratching at the back of his head. 'Do you think that, the longer we stay like this, the harder it's going to be to reverse things?'

'It's not easy in the first place,' Ed muttered, straightening up and clearing the plates. Roy very much doubted it was something he did at home, and it was comforting to see that some of Roy's habits remained so deeply entrenched that they were impossible to over-ride. 'I hadn't noticed, but all I've been focussed on that damn array.'

Roy got to his feet, unable to keep the wince off his face as the Automail twinged. He could tell from Ed's expression that he had noticed Roy's discomfort, and this time Ed's gaze was a visual interrogation. He looked at Roy like he was something under a microscope, so intense that Roy longed to glance away, but he was helpless. Either his pride or Ed's stubborn-to-the-bone nature would not let him yield, and all he could do was endure the scrutiny.

'You look like shit,' Ed said, but there was none of his usual annoyance in that statement. His voice was gentle and edged with a soft-concern that made Roy feel nothing short of pathetic. 'Go sit by the fire; it'll make the Automail better at least. Oh, and make yourself useful while you're there: read the book on the edge of your desk. We're looking for anything about soul displacement.'

Roy did as he was told, too tired to argue. With shuffling steps, he made his way through to the living room before picking up the book Ed had mentioned and easing himself down onto the sofa. The fire was still dancing cheerfully in its grate, and the uncertain light fluttered over the pages. At first, Roy thought he would be unable to concentrate, but before long he was drawn into the text, his mind wiped clean of lingering emotions as it became a blank slate for the theory trapped between the inked lines.

Gradually, warmth seeped through him, chasing away the aches, pains and darkness that had tried to take root. Perhaps Ed's instructions to read had been a coincidence, but Roy would bet anything that he had seen something familiar in the sorrow that Roy had been unable to hide and had acted accordingly. At least this way, Roy's mind was too busy to dwell on things better left undisturbed.

'Found anything?'

Roy looked up, blinking as his eyes struggled to adjust to the abrupt change in focus. He had not noticed Ed sit on the other end of the couch, resting in a lazy, artful sprawl. It was a pose Roy had assumed many times in the past: it projected calm and relaxation, but that did not mean there was not a sharp mind at work beneath. A book was open in Ed's hands, and he had not lifted his eyes from the page when he asked the question.

'Some, but it all sounds like something out of a children's story. What about you?'

'Bits and pieces.' Ed sighed, putting the book down and rubbing at his eyes. 'I'm sure we're on the right track, but there's something bothering me about all this. The guy created it was meant to be smart, right?'

'Very. Not as bright as you, but close.'

Ed did not bat an eyelid at the compliment. Either he did not believe it, or he simply accepted his brilliance as a statement of fact. 'Any alchemist with half a brain who is going to use himself in an array puts in some way to undo the process if it all goes wrong. He leaves himself a way out, just in case. The only reason anyone wouldn't bother is if they expected the process to kill them, and that definitely was not the point of this.'

Getting to his feet, Ed moved across to the desk, picking up papers and books before pinching the edge of the plate between thumb and forefinger. It seemed to give an eerie shimmer, but when Roy looked at it more closely there was nothing abnormal about it, and he wrote it off as his imagination playing tricks.

Laying all the work out on the coffee table, Ed pointed to two sections on the design, circling them with his finger while never touching the metal. 'I've taken the whole fucking thing apart, and I recognise something about every part of it except these. The alchemist was smart to work out how to fit the elements together, and how to get the power needed, but without knowing what these bits are I don't think I can reverse it.'

Roy sat forward, letting the book hang from his fingers as he shuffled closer to Ed's side to get a better look. The sigils were opposite each other on the circumference, marring the smooth outer line with an abrupt, geometric whorl. They did not match, not precisely, but they were similar on a basic level, and he racked his brain for an answer, but he came up with nothing.

'Maybe if we keep reading?' he suggested with a shrug, feeling the sharp curl of frustration seep through him. Neither he nor Ed were known for their patience, and he watched Ed grimace in distaste as he picked up the book again.

'It's not like we've got much fucking choice, is it?' he muttered. There was plenty of anger in his voice, but it was directed at the baffling design and its creator, not Roy, and he did not say another word as he turned his attention back to the text.

The steady whisper of turning pages defined the peace, and Roy tried to concentrate, but Ed was not making it easy. He had not shuffled back to his end of the couch, and their shoulders were touching, forming a line of warmth down Roy's side. He had never realised that he and Ed could sit peacefully side-by-side, not sniping or teasing, but in companionable silence. It was a domestic kind of situation, and Roy allowed himself the opportunity to be comforted by it. After all, once they were back in the correct bodies, there was no guarantee that this same kind of companionship would ever repeat itself.

Gradually, the time slipped away from them, dragging the hands of the clock around the face. With every passing hour, Ed's frustration grew, and there was nothing Roy could do or say to make it better. They were both in the same boat, confused to the point of hopelessness and, by dinner time, they had both run out of patience.

'Shit,' Ed hissed, grabbing some paper and staring at the plate. 'This is getting us nowhere. If I just reverse the energy flow then maybe it will work. It's got to be worth a try.'

'It could blow us to pieces,' Roy pointed out, but it was a feeble protest. They had been reading and hunting and puzzling through the array without finding any answers. Perhaps Ed's attempts would lead them to the breakthrough they needed. 'Try it,' he said, 'but for god's sake don't activate anything. I'll get dinner while you're working.' He gave a wry smile as Ed nodded, already absorbed in what he was doing. He probably would not notice Roy was gone until he emerged again, and Roy wandered through to the kitchen to do as he had promised.

Curiously, he lifted the lid on the cooking pot that Maes had brought over earlier. Gracia was a wonderful cook, and the rich, aromatic scent of chicken and herbs stole through the air. It only needed to be heated on the stove, and Roy set to work, his mouth watering as his stomach growled in appreciation. By the time it was ready, Ed had not emerged, and Roy picked up the warm plates in his Automail hand before snagging some cutlery in his left and carrying their dinner through to the living room.

Ed was scowling fiercely, an expression that Roy would never have let touch his face in public, and his hands were curled into fists where they were braced on the wooden surface. He looked as if he was a hair's breadth from banging his head on the desk, but the scent of food made him look up, and his shoulders slumped as he reached for a plate. 'Can't reverse it - the energy flow I mean.'

'You worked that out in twenty minutes?' Roy asked, raising an eyebrow when Ed shot him a glare. 'You don't normally give up so quickly.'

'I know when something's a waste of time,' Ed bit out, leaning back on the desk and balancing his plate in one hand as he stabbed a bit of meat. 'The guy who made this put it together like a lock. You can't just switch the symbols around and make the power go the other way to undo the transmutation. It needs to be broken down and put back together different and -'

'And without knowing what those two symbols mean or their purpose, we can't do that.' Roy finished for him, frowning at his dinner as he realised that they had wasted an entire afternoon. It galled him to think they had spent so much time and concentration and had nothing to show for their efforts, and he tried not to let his frustration into his voice as he asked, 'So what's next?'

There was no answer to his question, and Roy looked over to see Ed was staring at the fire, his expression weighted with annoyance and anger as he shook his head. If it had been anyone else, Roy would have taken it as defeat, but Ed never gave up, and his next words confirmed it. 'I'll think of something.'

Roy sighed, looking around at the mess of papers and sketches that covered his living room. It looked as if someone had let a bomb of in a library, and he could almost feel the weight of the problems they faced pressing down on them. 'Maybe we need to take a break from it. Even an hour might be enough to let us see something we missed before.'

'And do what?' Ed demanded around a mouthful. 'We're stuck in here until we're back to normal, remember?'

He had a point, but Roy glanced out of the window anyway, conscious of the walls that penned him in. This place was his home, his sanctuary, but that did not mean he was happy to be trapped inside it like a rat in a cage.

'Fuck it,' Roy said at last, giving a half smile as Ed snorted at his obscenity. 'Finish that and let's get out of here. A walk around the block will blow out the cobwebs. If anyone sees us and questions why we're together, we can claim I demanded a report from you. Everyone knows I'm keen for a promotion anyway.'

Ed looked doubtful, but Roy could see that he was tempted. 'What about your precious reputation?'

'I'll be with you to defend it.' Getting to his feet, Roy put his empty plate aside. 'Besides, it's not like I'm planning to stop and talk to anyone. We both need a break, Ed. It's that or go mad in here trying to work it out. The array will still be here in an hour.'

'Unfortunately,' Ed muttered, wolfing down his meal in a way that Roy was sure would give him indigestion later before dumping his crockery on Roy's desk. 'Come on, then.'

'I'll go out the back in case we're being watched. Meet me at the end of the street.' Roy was not sure if the subterfuge was unnecessary. After all, he had left by the front door without thinking this morning, but it would be stupid to become complacent now. The less suspicious activity he had to excuse, the better.

Ed was already shrugging into a coat, visibly eager to get outside. 'Don't take long, Mustang,' he ordered. 'I'm not going to stand around in the cold waiting for you.' With that, he was gone, shutting the door behind him and leaving Roy to go through to the kitchen.

The back door opened easily, and Roy locked it behind him, glancing around his small back garden before heading for the gate. A dark, narrow alley led to the bottom of his street, and his footsteps echoed along the pavement as he walked from one pool of feeble street light to the next. Gardens passed him by, some immaculate while others were nothing more than a scrap of balding lawn. Despite the life all around him, he met no one, and when the street opened out in front of him, Roy turned right, grunting in surprise when he collided with someone's broad chest.

'Watch it,' Ed said, grabbing his shoulders to stop him from falling over. 'I was going to look for you. What took you so long?'

Roy blinked, his words dying on his tongue as his heart leapt in his chest. Ed stood only an inch away, face-to-face and so close Roy could almost taste him. The warm weight of those hands burned through his clothes, the softest flutter of breath whispered across his cheek, and Roy barely suppressed a longing groan as the muted want that had simmered in his veins began to boil.

Ed's grip tightened, curving over the flesh shoulder as he rubbed his thumb absently along the line of skin and steel around the Automail port. There were several layers of fabric between them, but Roy felt naked all the same beneath that dark gaze, and exhilaration thrilled along his nerves. The air seemed to crackle, and Roy swallowed as he looked up into his own face.

Not even the gloomy twilight could hide that those eyes had turned almost black, and Roy could see the quick trip of a pulse near the collar of the long, black coat. Ed had not moved, as if he were frozen beneath the onslaught of the physical reaction to their proximity, and Roy swallowed tightly as he forced himself not to sway closer.

His brain was thick with the fog of desire and his tongue felt heavy and useless for anything as mundane as words, but Ed had asked a question, and Roy struggled to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded rough with promise. 'Nothing I – you had a head-start, that's all.' He breathed in, stifling a needy noise in his throat when he caught the scent of spice and shampoo. He wanted to lean forward, to nuzzle at that neck and brush kisses to hot skin. Every inch of him wanted to be pressed against that body, licking and biting and _taking_ –

Abruptly, Ed let him go, and the rush of cold air was like a slap in the face. Roy blinked, not sure whether to be relieved or bereft, and he rubbed at the nape of his neck as he tried to collect his scattered thoughts and control the trembles that shimmied through him. There was no way that either he or Ed could pretend they had not felt the want that brewed between them, and tremulous questions hovered in Roy's mind, begging to be spoken.

A week ago, Roy would never have considered having such a conversation with Ed, it was just too risky, but now the only thing stopping him was their current situation. He could not drag all this out into the open, not now.

Ed might know how much Roy wanted him physically, but that was only half the story. He needed to explain that it went deeper than that, that it could never just be about sex, but how could he expect Ed to believe him? Roy had spent the past few years manipulating him from one day to the next, and the faltering trust between them did not extend to the point of blind faith. If he was going to convince Ed about how he felt, then he needed to be in his body again, the sum of his parts, not like this, shattered and confused by the breathless slam of need that only seemed to have strengthened since yesterday.

'Are we going for a walk or not?' Ed asked gruffly, looking down the street rather than at Roy. His voice was tight, as if there were other words he wanted to say. However, it was clear this was not a subject he wanted to discuss, and Roy bit his lip before letting it slide. There would be a better moment for that essential conversation, and Roy could only hope his courage would not fail him when the time came.

His ribs swelled with a deep breath as he tried to calm the raging heat that stamped its way through him. Only when he felt able to think around his need did he gesture along the street. 'This way.' Steadily, he walked past Ed, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to fall in at his side.

They wandered down the road towards one of the parks, studiously avoiding the issues that hovered between them and never getting within arm's length of each other. The conversation was stilted and awkward, but Roy still felt better for it. Fresh air worked wonders, and he felt himself begin to relax as they followed the path that wove between the trees.

Gradually, Roy steered their discussions onto more neutral ground. It was a challenge, because talking about the array would only consume them in a tangle of alchemy again, and most other things seemed to skirt perilously close to the boundary of more intimate topics. However, before long the words came easily again, and they chatted about mundane things, losing themselves in the illusion of normality.

Roy almost forgot that he was in the wrong body, and it was only when Ed stumbled and spat a curse that reality washed over him again. 'You all right?' he asked, watching Ed flex his right foot uncomfortably.

'Legs are too long,' he grouched, casting Roy a quick glare as if daring him to make a short joke. The sharp look faded in moments, replaced with something softer that Roy did not understand. 'What happened to your ankle?' It was a quiet question, and Ed shrugged when Roy looked over at him in bafflement. 'You're not that old,' he said grudgingly, 'and everything else works pretty well, but when you get tired or cold your right ankle feels like it's made of rock. You broke it , didn't you?'

He was not wrong, and Roy screwed up his face in acknowledgement. 'It was years ago, about three months after I got back from Ishbal.' The memory was not a pleasant one, although it was more humiliating than traumatic, and showed a more impetuous side of him that he had worked hard to control in the years since. 'I was chasing an alchemist the state wanted brought in for questioning, and the little rat went for the rooftops. I followed, and -' Roy's shoulders shuffled in embarrassment. 'Let's just say he made the last jump and I didn't. It was not one of my finer moments.'

He had expected Ed to laugh, or at least smirk, but when he glanced sideways he realised Ed's expression was edged with something more angry. 'So what happened exactly?' You can't have fallen from roof level and only broken your ankle.'

'There was a fire escape in the way,' Roy explained. 'I only fell about about ten feet, but landed awkwardly. Since I had left my back-up several streets away, I had to limp to hospital, which made things worse.'

'Could've killed you,' Ed muttered. 'Of all the stupid things to do.'

That was pretty rich, coming from Ed, but Roy should have known he would pick up the recklessness of his actions. In the end, that accident had been a wake-up call. Surviving a war both broke and galvanised him. He was not sure if he had thought he was bullet-proof or just did not care if he died, but that fall had shaken some sense into him. Within another month he and Maes had finalised their decision to get him to the top, and he had never looked back.

'What about you?' he asked quietly, lifting his hand absently to touch the clothes that lay over the strange, marbled skin on his stomach. 'You've got your fair share of scars, but this one looks -' Roy could not find the right word to describe it, but he did not need to. Ed's expression was pained, as if the memory was still fresh and visceral in his mind.

'Kimblee dropped a tower on me,' he replied at last. 'One of the metal struts went straight through, and the fucker got away.'

A shudder of horror shot through Roy, and the nerves around the old wound seemed to resonate with pain, as if they could remember what he had never known about. It was enough to make nausea roll in his stomach, and he stared at Ed in disbelief. 'Straight through?' he repeated stupidly. 'What happened? How did you –?' He wanted to say “survive” but the word seemed to choke in his throat. He knew, in an abstract way, that Ed could have been killed under his command, but faced with the scar's testimony it was impossible to deny that the possibility had almost been a reality.

'Alchemy,' Ed said, like it was the answer to everything, but Roy could hear a level of reluctance in his voice, as if he did not want to tell him all of it for fear of how he would react. The expectant silence built between them, and when Roy stopped on the pavement, arms folded and his chin set in a stubborn line, Ed gave an irritated snort. 'Why does it matter? I'm all right now, aren't I?'

'That's not the point,' Roy bit out. 'You never mentioned this in any kind of report – you never even said anything off the record!' He frowned, trying to work back through those chaotic times, and his heart sank as he realised that, even if Ed had been rushed to a doctor within an hour, he would not have been back on his feet in less than a few months. Yet there was no absence long enough to fit the bill for that. 'You didn't just get yourself free with alchemy, did you?'

Ed gave him an unreadable look, and Roy wished he was having this conversation when Ed was wearing the right face, because at least then he would understand what he could see.

'It's not like I had much choice, Mustang,' he replied, scuffing further along the path with his hands in his pockets. 'I couldn't die and leave Al in armour, and there was no way any stupid doctors could have put me back together even if I could get to them before I bled out.'

Roy scrubbed his hand through his hair, trying to breathe around the tight, edgy feeling in his chest. Equivalent exchange was a mantra by which Ed seemed to live his life, and this would be no different. 'What did it cost you?' he asked, ignoring his fear at what the answer may be. Ed had already given up so much, but that did not mean that the transmutation had been free of charge.

A mirthless huff of laughter escaped Ed's lips, and he looked over his shoulder at Roy. For a moment, Roy thought Ed would lie, but at last he spoke in a heavy, honest voice. 'I didn't have a stone, but I had some of what makes one. I used up some of my life energy or soul or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It boosted the reaction and gave me time to get some help.' Ed shrugged. 'It might have taken some time off my life, but since I was dying I figured it didn't really matter.'

He said it so casually, as if his existence was nothing but currency, yet Roy knew that was at odds with how Ed treated others. He always tried to disable rather than kill, but when it came to himself it seemed there was no price too high. Roy would like to believe that, now Al was back to normal and that whole desperate episode of their lives was over, Ed would not be so hasty to put his life on the line, but Roy suspected that was wishful thinking on his part.

If one of them was ever injured in the line of duty, Roy had no doubt that Ed would be on his knees at their side doing it all over again, offering up part of his life in exchange for their survival until, eventually, he would give too much, and there would not be a day left to spare.

'I didn't report it because it's too much like human transmutation,' Ed explained, cutting off Roy's thoughts. 'The military would have freaked, and by the time it came to doing the paperwork, no one except me and Al had any idea it happened.' Ed turned around to look at him, standing in the glow of one of the many street-lamps. His expression was apologetic and confused, as if he did not understand Roy's sullen uncertainty about the injury. 'After that it seemed kind of pointless mentioning it.'

Roy kicked absently at the ground, trying to find the words to explain. 'It's not pointless to me,' he replied, staring into those eyes and wishing that it was gold that met his gaze, rather than blue. 'You're not even sure how much of your life you lost, do you? I mean are we talking days, months, more?'

'I don't know,' Ed folded his arms defensively, 'but who does? No one can tell when their time's up, Mustang, not until their bleeding to death or so old that... .' Ed's voice trailed off, and Roy could almost see the gears in his head shift into overdrive.

'What?' he asked suspiciously, watching as Ed scratched at his stubbled cheek, eyes narrowed in thought. He tried to extrapolate what Ed might have realised, but his head was too clogged with anxiety to work it out.

Ed's brow was furrowed, and when he spoke it was slow, as if he was puzzling through an idea as he put it into words. 'The alchemist who had the plate was an old guy, right? I mean, he died of natural causes?'

'Ninety-one, and he had a heart attack. What's that got to do with anything?' Roy moved closer, wishing he could read what was going on inside that skull as he waited for Ed to explain.

'The array I made to heal that hole had some similarities with what's on the plate, and I think I've worked out why.' Ed waved a hand, his eyes intense as he paced back and forth. 'The physical body isn't the only thing with a finite life-span. The energy inside it can only go so far. What's the point of shoving an old soul in a young body if the soul will rot anyway? You might delay your death, but not by very long.'

Roy paused, turning the idea over in his mind as theories sparked to life. 'He was trying to make his soul as young as his body.'

'Without losing the person he was in the process,' Ed added. 'He wanted to keep memories and experiences, he wanted his personality intact, but he wanted to turn back the clock on everything else.' He cuffed a hand across his forehead as he stared blankly into the trees, his bottom lip pinched beneath his teeth as he thought it over.

'Those sigils, the ones that didn't seem to have a purpose, could it be something to do with those?' Roy asked, knowing that he was right before Ed nodded. They had spent so long staring at that design and finding a use for every component; now it was as if they had the last piece of the puzzle, and all they had to do is slot it into place.

'I need to take another look at it,' Ed said, striding towards Roy and grabbing his left wrist, tugging him along like a dog on a lead. 'Come on. If we're right, then maybe we can get this thing reversed tonight!'

Roy snorted, tugging his hand free and trying to ignore the thrills racing along his skin as he kept up with Ed's long strides. It was as if someone had switched on the light, and now both of them were basking in the growing glow of comprehension.

Gone was the comfortable, dawdling pace, and the pair of them almost marched home. Within ten minutes, Roy led Ed up the alley into the garden at the back of the house, confident that it was too dark for them to be seen by any neighbours. The keys rattled in the lock of the kitchen door, and Roy pushed it open, stepping inside and waiting until Ed had crossed the threshold before turning on the kitchen light.

Something tweaked the edge of his hearing, and Roy frowned, looking around. It was a high-pitched whine, like something mechanical, and his first thought was of the Automail, but it seemed too distant to be connected to him. 'Can you hear that?' he hissed, watching Ed freeze halfway across the kitchen, head cocked to one side as he strained to pick out anything in the calm night. 'Something's squeaking.'

'Mice?' Ed asked, smirking as Roy glared. 'I can't hear anything, Mustang. It's probably your imagination.'

'You're just deaf,' Roy retorted, scowling when he realised he was insulting his own hearing. 'There's definitely something in here.' He prowled through to the hallway, searching every corner for anything unusual. His house was as mundane as ever, as warm and comforting as Ed's presence at his heels, and it was only when they reached the closed living room door that Ed made a surprised noise.

'Now I can hear it; like an insect or something.'

'Big bug,' Roy muttered, pushing open the living room door. His breath left him in a surprised rush, and he heard Ed's soft curse of disbelief as he looked over Roy's shoulder.

The room was bathed in ice-blue light. It rippled up the walls and ghosted over the furniture, covering the ruddy coals of the fire in a purple sheen. Hot tin filled the air with its stench, and Roy's gaze went to the plate on the desk. Curved lines were picked out in cool silver and warm gold, and he craned his neck to get a better look, jumping in surprise when Ed slipped past him and stepped into the room.

'What are you doing?' he snapped, narrowing his eyes as he waited for some kind of transmutation to ignite in the air. Yet nothing happened. The strange light drifted around Ed like mist, curling along his skin and catching in his clothes, but otherwise doing him no harm. 'You could have killed me!'

'I've seen this before,' Ed said, staring around the room. 'It was a theoretical array, one that could take a tiny amount of energy and duplicate it until there was enough to power the transmutation. If the reaction was not set off by the alchemist, it let out this weird light as a way to bleed off the excess.' He gestured with a hand, creating phantom-like zephyrs in the air, and Roy shivered as a coil touched his cheek. He expected it to be cold, but it was like being kissed with sunlight, and slowly he moved towards Ed's side.

The desk was only a couple of strides away and, this close, he could see that the gold and silver power was tinted with shades of red and blue. The colours curved around each other, following the flow of the design, pooling and swirling hypnotically, but never mixing.

'What do we do?' he asked, grimacing as Ed shrugged.

'I don't know. Neither of us have touched it since yesterday, so where's it getting its power from?'

'More to the point, what will it do if it's activated?' Roy pursed his lips, easing himself closer. Even now, knowing all that he did about the design and its creator, he still struggled to comprehend the complexity of what lay before him. He could feel the heat coming from the metal's surface like glowing coals, and he was vaguely aware of Ed moving to stand opposite him. They were both within arm's reach of the array, but neither of them moved to touch it. They may be eager to get back in their bodies, but neither of them were that desperate.

Abruptly, the whining sound went dead, and an eerie silence settled throughout the room. The misty light continued to swirl, but Roy barely noticed it as he watched the array begin to pulse. Ed was already shifting back, but before Roy got a chance to turn and run, something grabbed him. It was like a tight fist around his left wrist, pulling him fiercely forward, and he just had time to hear Ed's cry of alarm before the transmutation exploded outwards.

There was a rush of light and sound, wiping his vision clean and filling his head with its low, bass roar. His bones shook as the power lanced straight into him, curling like claws and ripping brutally through his head. Nerves squealed at the intrusion, and his blood waltzed in his veins as his heart skipped and stuttered. He could not breath for the smell of hot metal and could feel nothing but the roaring tempest of power all around him. Pain was his world and, below it all, the fast thrum of fear that neither he nor Ed would make it out of this alive.

Roy tried to cling onto something, anything, but his mind was going dark and his awareness was fading. Blindly he reached out, trying to find another body in the midst of all the chaos, but his fingers closed around empty air, and his shout was meaningless to his deafened ears.

Ed was beyond his reach, and the world went black.


	3. Under My Skin

Shifting heat brushed against Ed's face, tempting him out of the painless shelter of unconsciousness and into reality. For the second time in less than two days, he had been struck down by an array and, even before he opened his eyes, his body began to file complaints. Muscles ached and shivered, twanging with echoes of power, and his nerves seemed to hum and spark beneath his skin. The Automail felt too tight and heavy in its ports, and his head throbbed as if his skull had been cracked apart.

Sluggish thoughts picked up speed as Ed realised what he was being told, and his eyes snapped open, his gaze instantly resting on his silver hand curled loosely by his face. Automail: he was back in his own flawed body – no longer inhabiting Roy's pale perfection...

Roy. What had happened to Roy?

Ed sat up in alarm and instantly regretted it as the room went into a pin-wheel of dizzy confusion. Someone had lain him down on the couch, and now his fingers dug into the cushions like claws as nausea clenched his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling not to throw up as his abused head howled at him. He felt fucking awful, far worse than the first time this had happened, and it took all of his will not to pass out again. He did not have time for that. He had to find Roy!

'Easy, Ed.' A gentle hand pressed against his flesh shoulder, a warm tether to the world, and Ed tried to ignore the gush of relief that went through him upon hearing Roy's familiar tones. 'Are you all right? You've been out for more than an hour. You scared me half to death!' It could have been a reprimand, but Roy's voice was too quiet for that, and his fingers tightened on Ed's shoulder, urging him to open his eyes.

Roy was hunkered down beside the couch, his face thrown into relief by the fire that burned in the grate. Pale skin had turned to chalky white, and dark hair stuck up at all angles as he searched Ed's face for information with intense eyes. Little space separated the two of them, and Ed gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to sway closer and rest against Roy's warm strength. Confusion and exhaustion made him weak, and Ed dragged his mind together as he forced himself to concentrate.

'What happened?' he asked hoarsely, licking his lips as his voice scraped along his throat. 'Are you all right? Did you get hurt?'

Roy shook his head, brushing bare fingertips against a cut on Ed's temple and grimacing in apology when Ed flinched. 'You whacked your head when you went down. I woke up and you were still out of it – so still I thought you were...' He swallowed, and Ed realised with a jolt that he could comprehend every nuance of emotion that flickered over Roy's face. It was not that his masks were not in place – they were battered, but still there – but Ed had lived in that body for a short while, and that had given him more insight into Mustang's real nature than he had gained in all the years they had worked together. Fear and relief, anger and something infinitely more tender were there, all exposed for Ed's consideration, and he struggled not to stare.

He had watched Roy from the other side of a desk for so long, and he had never seen anything like those emotions in the past. Normally, Roy's expression took on an indefinable intensity that made Ed feel like he was under a magnifying glass, but never before had he been able to return that scrutiny in equal measure and comprehend the minutiae of Roy's mood. It was fascinating, and Ed's breath caught in his throat as he watched the dance of Roy's feelings across his features.

Concern was rapidly gaining the upper hand, and Ed realised he was gazing at Roy, speechless and stupid. He shook his head before he thought not to, wincing as another lance of pain arced through his skull. Roy instantly wrapped his hands around both of Ed's shoulders, as if he was worried he was going to slump back into unconsciousness.

'I'm okay,' Ed managed, trying to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Tiredly, he pressed his flesh palm to his forehead, avoiding the shallow cut as he tried to think around the throbbing pain. 'I just don't get what happened. Array's don't reverse themselves, but we're back to normal. I don't understand it.'

With great care, Roy let go of Ed's shoulders before nudging Ed's feet over so there was room for him to sit on the couch. His dark gaze never left Ed's face, and a frisson of excitement darted down Ed's spine, making his stomach curl with pleasant heat as he tolerated Roy's visual examination. Before, Ed would have seen it as a challenge – would have suspected that there was criticism rather than appreciation or tenderness in that gaze – but now he was not so sure. It was tempting to demand to know what Roy was looking at, but Ed held his tongue and lifted his chin, watching Roy with interest as the silence stretched around them.

'Neither do I,' Roy murmured at last, shifting restlessly closer, reducing the space between them. Ed swung his legs over the side of the couch so that they were sitting side-by-side, close enough that their arms touched as they both stared into the fire. 'Somehow I doubt we'll ever have the answer. The array's gone.'

'What?' Ed's words were rife with disbelief. 'What do you mean it's gone?'

Rather than reply, Roy got to his feet. Immediately, Ed tried to get up off of the couch and follow him, but his head was having none of it. The room pitched and twisted, and he almost fell flat on his face before strong arms wrapped around him and supported his weight with ease. Roy's chest was a hard, warm wall beneath the thrum of Ed's heart, and he swallowed tightly as he curled his hands in Roy's cotton shirt, pulling it taut as he tried to muster the strength to straighten up.

'Maybe I should call a doctor,' Roy said softly, shifting one hand to cup the back of Ed's head before guiding him back down to sit on the couch. Ed tried to give him a “don't you dare” glare, but clearly he was not at his most intimidating, because Roy looked torn between amusement and concern. 'You're probably concussed,' he pointed out, giving a sigh as Ed folded his arms over his chest, stubborn and defiant. 'Fine, but if you can't stand on your own two feet in ten minutes, then I'm taking you to the hospital.' It was said as if compromise was not an option, and Ed knew that was probably the case. Roy would carry him there over his shoulder if necessary.

'Just show me the plate, Mustang,' he retorted, leaning back into the cushions as Roy did as he was told, picking up the silver disc from the desk before handing it over to Ed. By now it was instinct to handle it carefully, but as soon as the firelight flashed off the polished surface, Ed realised there was no point. The design was gone, wiped away as if it had never existed. The heat of the transmutation had melted the metal and left a strange, oil-slick rainbow in its wake.

He skimmed his flesh fingers over the surface, trying to detect any dips or ridges that might remain, but there was nothing, and Ed shook his head in confusion. All the time he had been stuck in Roy's body he had been sure the array would make perfect sense if he was simply back where he belonged, but it was still a mystery to him, and now there was nothing left to pick apart or comprehend. 'Fuck.'

Roy gave a grunt of agreement. 'I'd be happier if we understood what it did. While I'm not complaining that I'm back in my body again, I'm suspicious about how and why the array triggered itself.'

Ed bit his lip. Roy was right; an array that undid its own damage was too good to be true. 'I don't trust it,' he said at last, drumming his Automail fingers against the metal. 'What if it didn't do things right? What if there are side-effects?'

'Like what?' Roy looked at him closely, his gaze flickering over Ed's frame.

Ed grimaced, taking a moment to think about the answer. To be honest, he had expected to feel something, but it was as if he had never left this physical shell for another. Everything moved with natural ease, and even the deadness of his Automail was a comforting thing, rather than an alarming loss. He felt better inside his own skin than he had for years. Perhaps it was the near memory of Roy's alien body around him that made him feel that way, but Ed had never felt more at peace with himself than now. Even though his head was still throbbing and his muscles griped with pain, it felt as if he had come home.

'I'm fine, apart from my head, but that doesn't mean things will stay that way.' Ed looked towards Roy, noticing the subtle tension that seemed to hum through those broad shoulders. At first glance, he was relaxed and at ease, but Ed could see past than thin veneer of comfort to the uncertainty beneath. Something was making Mustang nervous. 'What about you?'

He watched Roy curl his hands into experimental fists before spreading his fingers once more, tipping them back and forth in the firelight. 'It's like it never happened. I can almost pretend I dreamt it.' He rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing at the knotted muscles there. 'Apart from the fact I seem to have developed a hunch. Would it have killed you to sit up straight while you were in here?'

Ed rolled his eyes, but no rude retort sprang to mind. Perhaps he was too tired, or maybe he simply did not want to get into another petty argument with Mustang but, for once, he could let the bastard's bitching slide. With a sigh, he leaned back into the cradle of the sofa. He wished he could believe that, for once, things had gone his way without demanding a huge price, but Ed knew that was not how life worked. If nothing else, he had to figure out how the array had switched him and Roy back into their respective bodies. He did not believe in fate or good luck. There was a scientific reason behind what had happened, and if he was going to get any peace, he had to find it.

'Where are the notes on the array?' Ed asked, his shoulders shifting in a shrug when Roy gave him a puzzled look. 'Maybe the fucking thing put us back right, and maybe it didn't, but I can't walk away from here until I work out exactly what that array did to us.'

A faint, genuine smile curved Roy's lips; it made him look younger, more open and at ease as he nodded his head. 'I know. You never can let something lie in peace.'

Ed watched Roy wander over to the desk, his tongue too thick and clumsy in his mouth to formulate a reply. Dancing firelight cast shadows over Roy's tall frame, and the memory of that body naked in the shower seared across Ed's mind like a brand. He swallowed tightly, wetting his lips as his face flushed and sharp desire clutched between his legs. It was more intense than ever before, and Ed sucked in a shaky breath as he tried to reach for some kind of control.

Roy felt it too, Ed knew that. If this whole mess had shown Ed one grain of truth it was that passion did not spare Mustang from its bite. What simmered between was equally fierce from both sides. The reactions of Roy's body whenever they got too close had told Ed everything he needed to know, loud and clear. Need was something they both felt keenly, yet neither of them had dared to put it into words.

Ed watched as Roy began to sort their scattered notes into a hasty pile, wondering if all that they had learned about each other would make a difference. If he left now, without mentioning the tension that simmered between them, would their relationship change, or would things carry on as normal?

Even as the question drifted through his mind, Ed knew the answer. They would never move beyond the tentative respect and grudging friendship that they had already established. They would be stuck back in the restraints of the military, and all the evidence they had collected would steadily fade until it was a secret once more, unknown and unacknowledged.

Yet when Ed thought about saying something, about dragging all of his hope and desire out in the open and laying them bare before Roy's eyes, his stomach clenched in panic. Physical attraction did not mean much on its own, and whispering doubts circled his head, making it ache more. If Roy had wanted him, then why had he never spoken up about it? Was it because he thought Ed did not return his feelings, or was there more behind his silence?

Belatedly, Ed realised that Roy had turned around to face him again, and one dark eyebrow was raised in bafflement at Ed's unseeing stare. Quickly, he tore his eyes away, looking down at his reflection in the plate. It was only when half the sheaf of papers was shoved under his nose that he looked up again, regarding Roy with a confused expression.

'I'll help you work it out,' Roy explained, but as soon as Ed reached out to take the notes, he pulled them out of reach, giving Ed a meaningful look. 'On one condition. You can only read through these if you agree to stay with me tonight.' Ed's mind went blank with surprise, only to cloud with disappointment as Roy added in a quiet voice, 'I want to make sure your head's all right. If I let you walk out the door, there's no one to look after you.'

Ed stretched forward, snatching the paper out of Roy's grips and staring at the page. For a second, he had thought Roy was saying what Ed had not mustered the courage to put into words, but it turned out that was a false hope. 'Not much of the night left anyway,' Ed muttered, pointing at the clock on the mantelpiece; the hands hovered over midnight. 'I'll be out of your hair by the morning.'

Roy said nothing, and Ed felt the couch at his side dip as Mustang took a seat and began to study their previous efforts to comprehend the array. Part of Ed was surprised that Roy wanted to help. Normally he was happy enough to let Ed handle whatever alchemical theory provided the backdrop for the latest assignment to come his way, but perhaps this time it was more personal.

Still, after a couple of minutes of flicking through papers, Ed glanced across at Roy. 'You don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can take care of it.'

'I don't like unsolved mysteries, and you're right: arrays don't normally undo themselves,' Roy replied. After a moment, he met Ed's eyes, and a frail smile lit his face. 'Besides, maybe if we both work on this, then I can get you into bed before dawn.'

A faint flush stole over Ed's cheeks at the suggestion within Roy's words. He tried to remind himself that it could be nothing but wishful thinking on his part, but that did not stop his heart stamping hard and fast in his chest. Roy had turned his attention back to the notes, and Ed forced himself to follow suit, doing his best to focus on the scrawled, clumsy handwriting both he and Roy had been forced to adopt by their strange situation. More than once they had to ask each other for translations of their scribbles and, by the time the fire had started to dim in the grate, Ed was leaning his full weight on Roy's shoulder, warm and comfortable as the familiar spark of comprehension began to glow in his mind.

'We did set it off,' he said at last, looking up into Roy's surprised face and leaning back a little way as he realised how close they were. Ed had not even noticed the gentle settling of his body against Roy's, and now his skin hummed with the memory of body heat. 'I think we triggered the array to reverse itself. We just didn't know it at the time.'

'What do you mean?' Roy shifted his weight on the couch, leaning closer as Ed pulled free a sketch of the array, the only schematic they had left of it, now. The lamplight shone on the white page, and graphite lines charted a clear, bold course. 'Can you see something you couldn't before?'

'Sort of. I knew these were amplifiers,' he said, pointing to the circles that would create eddies in the current of the transmutation. ' They can take a small amount of energy and build it up into enough to give the array power it needs. The Alchemist who made this wanted to trade out of his old body, but he left himself an escape route. Remember when we first woke up, you handed me the plate and we both touched the array?'

Ed looked up, watching the comprehension begin to dawn in Roy's eyes. As soon as their fingertips had touched the design, it had been like being bitten. Even now a red mark like a pinprick lingered on the heel of Ed's left palm, and he watched Roy turn his hand over to stare at the twin blemish on his skin. 'That was the trigger for the array to reverse itself?'

'Looks like it,' Ed replied, pointing to an inner ring that skirted the inside of the array's circumference. There were thorny points at set distances along its length and faint elemental symbols. 'It must have been built in all along, and I guess both bodies had to touch it. The design took just enough energy to get itself started.'

Ed shrugged, his eyes skimming over the details of the design as calculations ran through his head. 'The array probably had enough power to switch us back within twelve hours, but we never touched it again to set off the transmutation.' He blinked, pursing his lips as he thought through the events of the evening. 'When we came in it was letting off that mist to give up some of the energy, but there was still too much. In the end it overloaded and went off by itself – maybe some kind of fail-safe in case the bastard who made it swapped into the body of a non-alchemist? That way things could be changed back even if he couldn't transmute.'

Roy had gone tense at his side, and Ed could practically see his train of thought. 'What if we hadn't been here when that happened? What if we'd still been out or in another room?'

Ed stared at the design, not seeing the lines and sigils but focussing on the power beneath. 'We'd have been fucked,' he murmured. 'Stuck in each other's bodies until we put the array back together again and, even with these sketches, I'm not sure we would have had enough information to get it right.'

'You'd have worked it out.' Roy's words were filled with such quiet faith that Ed looked up at him, surprised by the show of genuine emotion. Mustang knew Ed was good at what he did, but he had never given any indication that he had such trust in Ed's abilities before. It should not have made something float in Ed's chest, and he tried to press down on the light bubble of happiness that trembled under his ribs.

'Yeah, well, maybe, but it would still have left you stuck in here for a while longer.' He gestured down to his own frame with a wave of his hand. 'The array did everything it was supposed to do; it worked, and now it's gone. Mystery solved.' Ed gave a wry smile, trying to ignore the faint tremor in his voice as he added, 'At least now things can get back to normal, right?'

This time the look on Roy's face was unreadable. His head was tipped to one side in consideration, and it felt like he was trying to read Ed's thoughts off the inside of his skull. 'Right,' he said at last, and Ed wondered if he could hear a trace of bleak disappointment in Roy's voice. 'How do you feel? Still dizzy?'

Ed hesitated, giving the question some genuine thought rather than answering on automatic. The world was still in focus, and the sparking pain in his head had dulled to sullen throb in time to his pulse. His vision did not dip and spin as it had done when he had first woken up, and the only thing that dragged at his eyes was the weight of physical and mental exhaustion: the price of this latest ordeal.

'I don't need a doctor,' he said at last, smiling crookedly when Roy gave him a doubtful look. 'I'm just tired, that's all. Nothing's wrong with me that a good night's sleep won't fix.'

With a grunt, Roy got to his feet, holding out his hand to help Ed up. 'Come on then. You can spend the night here. If nothing else, someone needs to keep an eye on you.' When Ed hesitated, Roy sighed, and it was easy to see the same exhaustion branding its presence on the older man's frame. 'Ed, head injuries are difficult to judge. You might feel fine, but they can turn bad between one minute and the next. I need to make sure you're all right. Please?'

Ed hesitated, trying to find a flaw in Roy's reasoning, but none leapt out at him. 'I guess since Al's in Risembool...' Ed trailed off before taking Roy's hand and letting Roy pull him to his feet. The stubborn part of his nature wanted to snarl that he was not some kid that needed taking care of, but it was a muted kind of defiance that Ed kept locked up tight. If he was honest about it, he did not want to walk out of the door and back to his cold, empty apartment anyway. The world still felt new and raw – strangely threatening after everything that had happened over the past day – and Roy's presence was a warm comfort Ed did not want to leave behind.

Gently, Roy led him out into the hall, Ed's Automail hand still firmly wrapped in Roy's left palm. If the cold metal bothered him, he showed no sign of it, and Ed was in no hurry to pull away. Perhaps if it weren't for the tiredness that turned his bones to lead he would have been less willing to follow Roy, lamb-like and docile, but things had changed between them. There had been a time that Ed would never have thought of Mustang as someone he could trust, but now it was another matter completely. Roy had been inside Ed's body, had been the mind within, and he had treated it well. Perhaps Ed did not know exactly what Mustang had done during those twisted up hours, but Ed doubted it was anything worse than the occasional stolen glimpse and curious touch he had indulged in while locked in Roy's frame.

'You can take the spare bedroom if you want,' Roy said, his foot on the first step of the stairs, 'or you can sleep in my room like last night.' He looked over his shoulder, his face half-hidden in the twilight of the hallway. Ed expected Roy to offer up some kind of excuse, like needing to check on him in the night or something, but he did not say a word, leaving the choice wide open and almost breathless with possibility.

'That spare bed's fucking uncomfortable,' he growled eventually, nudging his way past Roy and pulling his hand free as he picked his way up the stairs. 'I'm not sleeping in there again.' Ed did not dare look over his shoulder to look at Roy's expression, almost afraid of what he might see. Would Roy be pleased or annoyed by his intrusion in his personal space? Was he hoping Ed would slink off to the spare room and leave him in peace, or did he feel the same as Ed, strangely compelled to stay close?

Butterflies thrashed in Ed's stomach as he pushed open the bedroom door, hesitating as he stared at the bed. White sheets were bathed in pale moonlight, and the pillows were still dented from last night. They had managed to share the ridiculously big double mattress without a problem before, but that had been different. Yesterday, the hum of attraction had been muted and confused, but now the disconnection between body and mind was gone, and it was as if all of Ed's desire had been brought back into focus, sharper and more dazzling than before. He might be tired, but could he really sleep lying next to the man who embodied everything he wanted?

Dimly, he could hear the sounds of Roy brushing his teeth in the bathroom, and Ed flicked on the light as he toed his way out of his boots. Last night, the bedroom had felt like a sanctuary to the body he was in, even as his mind had twitched at the alien surroundings. Now, nothing about the room should have felt familiar to him, and yet it was like some kind of sanctuary. The air was scented with the smell of clean sparks and spice, and the soft sheets and plush mattress of the bed seemed to beckon. Despite himself, Ed felt relaxed here, and it was far too easy to imagine waking up in that perfect nest every morning with Roy's warm weight curled around his body.

'Bathroom's free.'

Ed jolted in surprise, turning to face Roy where he stood in the doorway. His shirt was undone to the waist, revealing smooth, warm skin, and a flicker of disoriented deja vu shot through Ed's mind. Was it really only yesterday that he had stood in front of a mirror admiring the body temporarily under his control? The memories were already taking on a dream-like quality, and Ed cleared his throat as he dragged his eyes away, murmuring his thanks as he brushed past Roy and hurried to the bathroom.

The spare toothbrush from before was by the sink, and Ed set about his night-time routine, cleaning his teeth and splashing cool water onto his face in the vain hope it would shock his thoughts into some kind of sensible order. When trapped in Roy's frame, Ed had thought the array was a mystery he would never be able to solve, but the puzzles of alchemy were child's play compared to the man himself. There were so many questions and doubts hounding their way through his head, and all they did was exhaust him further, leaving him puzzled and broken.

Looking up at his reflection, Ed cuffed the water from his face, meeting tired gold eyes in the glass. His hair was pulled back in a clumsy ponytail, and strands escaped to cling to his damp cheeks as he reached for a towel. The cut on his head puckered as he frowned at his reflection, trying to comprehend the motives behind Roy's actions.

Of course, the bastard could never just say anything outright; it was all done in gestures that could be taken a dozen different ways. The only certainty that Ed had was that Roy had not been in any hurry to get him to leave. It would have been easy for Mustang to politely shove him out into the waiting night and close the door on this whole surreal interlude of their lives, but he had not done so. In fact, he had almost ordered him to stay. Whether that was about concern over Ed's welfare of something more, he could not bring himself to guess, and yet...

Yet Roy had suggested that Ed sleep in his bed which had to mean something, didn't it?

'Fuck,' Ed whispered to himself, shaking his head and hanging the towel back up over the handrail. He was too tired to think about this now. Everything ached, and the need to lie down on a soft bed was bone-deep. When the morning came he could try and sort out the shattered mess that was all that remained of his certainties. In the mean-time, what was wrong with enjoying this temporary comfort and companionship while it lasted?

Flicking out the light, he shuffled back through to the bedroom, hesitating as he saw Roy in bed, eyes closed and already breathing deeply. The array had taken a lot out of them both. Deep bruises were smudged beneath Roy's closed eyes, and his body was limp and boneless, already at the mercy of sleep. Tiptoeing across the floor, Ed shucked out of his leather pants, letting the tough material muffle the clank of his pocket-watch as it hit the floor. He'd slept in his vest and boxers enough times in the past that he was used to it by now, and he gently lifted up the sheets to slip in at Roy's side.

A weak glow still filled the room from the bedside lamp, and Ed quietly turned it off before easing himself back against the pillow. It was a challenge not to groan aloud as his body relaxed, melting against the cradle of the mattress, and Ed let his eyes drift closed as a sigh of relief slipped past his lips.

Outside the window, the soft sounds of the city's night continued to stir, but they gradually faded out as Ed started to sink beyond the reach of the waking world. The last thing he felt was a warm arm hooking him closer and the perfect heat of Roy's chest pressed against his own. It did not matter if Roy was awake or asleep, if that action was controlled by body or mind, because Ed welcomed it, resting his left hand over the thud of Roy's heart as he allowed himself to become lost in the darkness.

This was where he wanted to belong, not just for one night, but for as long as Roy would have him.

* * *

Sunlight bathed the room like molten gold, sweeping away the last shadows of the night and falling onto Roy's face through the open curtains. He had been too exhausted to pull them closed the night before, too intent on sleep to do anything but fall into bed and surrender himself, and now Roy wrinkled his nose at the day's intrusion.

He was warm and content, perfectly at peace, and he would give anything not to have to move from this spot. Even before he opened his eyes he knew it was Ed in his arms. He could smell the lingering trace of leather that seemed to cling to Ed's skin and the faintest tang of machine oil for the Automail, along with soap, shampoo and the indefinable fragrance that was Ed's alone.

In his embrace, Ed's chest swelled and sank with the steady breaths of sleep, and his heart beat out a slow, drugging rhythm that Roy could feel against his own ribs. That absurd flick of hair tickled his nose, and Roy smiled faintly to himself as he dragged his eyes open and looked down at the young man pressed against him.

The bright gold crown of Ed's head was resting beneath Roy's chin, and he could feel the tip of Ed's nose nudged against the hollow of his throat. Every breath whispered across the skin of his neck, erotic and strangely soothing. The black vest Ed was wearing had ridden up, leaving his taut, toned stomach bare so that Roy's arm was draped lazily across Ed's naked waist. Now he tightened his grip gently, stroking his fingertips down the bare, skin-sheathed ridge of Ed's spine, following the dips and hollows until the waistband of the boxer shorts blocked his way and he reversed direction, rubbing back and forth in long, leisurely strokes.

He had thought the temptation to touch Ed's body had been hard to resist when he occupied it, but now it was almost impossible. Roy's flesh and mind worked in tandem, one relishing sensations while the other lost itself in the details of the smaller frame beside him. He had always known Ed's physique was about strength and functionality, but he had never realised the deep, carnal appeal of all that power, resting now in sleep, but brimming with potential all the same.

Roy narrowed his eyes, letting his lashes drift closed again as arousal stirred in the pit of his stomach. It was a languid thing, like a predator waking up from sleep, neither urgent nor demanding, but inescapable all the same. He knew he should stop touching Ed. Even if his caresses were relatively innocent, he had still received nothing as blatant as vocal permission to invade Ed's personal space this way. Just because he had awoken to find Ed practically glued to him did not mean he had any right to hold him close and relish the silken heat of his skin, but Roy simply did not have the strength to pull away.

He wanted Ed more than he could begin to comprehend, and it frightened and excited him in equal measure. When was the last time he had longed to touch anyone this much? Normally, he deliberated whom to share his bed with like a strategist putting together a battle plan, but Ed... Ed demanded everything without even opening his mouth. Roy knew that whatever they shared could never be just about what happened in the bedroom. It was something deeper – and lust, sex, need – they were just part of a much larger whole.

Roy knew that should terrify him, but instead it was as if someone had jolted all the disparate pieces of his life together. He had a sneaking suspicion that Ed would not be his other half; he would be the glue that supported the flaws cracking Roy through. The young man in his arms probably had the ability to make or break him, and yet Roy wanted nothing more than the chance to find out which it would be.

Last night, he had tried to gauge what Ed was thinking and feeling, had tried to get some kind of reaction to show him the way forward, but no answers had been forthcoming. Roy always chose his words with care, and he had let more than one hint of innuendo and double meaning slip into his voice, but Ed had still held back, uncertain and blushing in a way that made Roy's heart _ache_.

For all the hours he had spent in that body of silver and gold, he was still no closer to understanding the man Ed had become. Roy knew that, if he wanted to start anything, he would have to take a leap of faith and put his heart on the line with no guarantees that Ed would not crush it. Normally, Roy was confident that his advances would be received with pleasure, but Ed was unlike anyone else he had ever desired, and the uncertainty left Roy's chest tight and breathless, his heart fluttering like a leaf in a gale as his stomach seemed to fill with feathers, light and ticklish.

Next to him, Ed shifted, and Roy automatically tightened his grip to keep him close. Yet it seemed that distance was not what Ed had in mind as he hooked his leg over Roy's, pinning him in place and nuzzling closer with a sleepy sigh of contentment. The lazy desire in the pit of Roy's gut began to prowl through his body, making his nerves shiver and spark in response to Ed's heavy presence, and he swallowed against the dryness in his mouth as he lifted his hand to ghost down the tousled fall of Ed's hair.

Ed mumbled something, an inarticulate, happy noise that made Roy smile, and he glanced down, pulling back to see the dark line of Ed's lashes part to reveal sleepy, unfocussed gold. Roy had not moved his arms, still had one hand resting over Ed's hair and the other splayed across the small of his back. To withdraw them now felt nothing short of impossible, and something in Roy's heart gave as Ed did nothing to pull himself away. There were no stammered excuses or angry questions, just slowly dawning realisation and Ed watching him as if he was waiting for Roy to make his next move.

There was so much he could say, yet all his words were useless and clumsy. Roy found himself speechless in the face of Ed's gaze, torn between the need to say something about what coiled between them and the fear that, by mentioning it, he would somehow doom it to failure.

Something must have shown on his face, because Ed took a deep breath, glancing away down the flat vista of the bed before looking back, his eyes practically glowing with that same old Elric stubbornness and determination Roy knew so well. Ed's flesh hand shifted against Roy's chest, moving to curve over over the back of his neck. The firm weight on his nape and the brief, searching look Ed gave him were the only warning he got before Ed stretched up and tentatively brushed a kiss against Roy's mouth.

It was so soft, so at odds with Ed's brashness and raw, vivid energy that Roy almost could not believe who was kissing him. Yet he could feel the taut wire of tension running through the muscles beneath his hands and knew that all that spark and fire was still there, held firmly in check as Ed pressed against the line of Roy's body.

The noise Ed made when Roy parted his lips sent ripples of heat down Roy's skin, a sexy-as-hell moan of relief, as if Ed had needed him to kiss back more than he needed his next breath; Roy was helpless to do anything but lose himself as their tongues tangled, far more smooth and knowing than Roy had ever thought possible.

There was nothing practiced or choreographed about it. This was a kiss that said more than any number of words – that spoke to Roy more than anything chaste or torrid that he had shared with anyone else – and he returned it with eager, desperate sounds catching in his throat.

Roy's hands refused to stay still, slipping further up beneath Ed's vest to trace the lines of smooth scars and clear flesh alike, feeling the strong sweetness of bones and muscle. It was dizzying to think that, for a brief while, he had been within that frame, but that had been more akin to an invasion. This, the feel of Ed's lips and the curve of his body into Roy's, hard and passionate and perfect, made Roy feel closer to Ed than ever. For the first time, Ed was opening up and inviting him to share in all he had to offer, and the very thought sent a hard pulse of arousal shooting down between Roy's legs.

Ed's flesh fingers rested on the divot of Roy's collarbone, tracing a distracted, shaky circle as Roy's pulse hammered against his touch. It was the tiniest motion, but Ed was far from passive in Roy's arms. His back arched and his hips rubbed maddeningly against Roy's erection, grinding and teasing and letting Roy know loud and clear that he was not the only one turned on by this – whatever _this_ was. It had started out as a kiss, but Ed never kept things simple, never did anything by halves, and now he was driving Roy insane with each artless twitch of his hips and shift of his body.

Every part of Roy strained like a dog on a leash, wanting more. Shared, gasping breaths stirred the air between each kiss, and Ed's honeyed flesh was like silk beneath the skim of his palm: addictive. It was only when Ed shifted away that Roy's eyes fluttered open, and the distance between them felt as if it were a mile rather than a hair's breadth.

Ed's Automail hand was curved over his shoulder in a loose grip, and for a minute, Roy thought that Ed was trying to hold him at bay. One look into his face made Roy realise that he was wrong. Ed's pupils were huge black pools banded by bronze. His lips were red and swollen, parted around each trembling breath as a soft flush of want daubed its war paint across his cheeks. Ed was not trying to hold Roy back, he was trying to stop himself from melting against Roy's body as if that were where he belonged.

'Fuck,' he murmured, making the curse into something soft and almost loving as he glanced away, his gaze briefly shielded by dark lashes before he looked back at Roy, eyes alight with a sharp, wicked flash of joy that made Roy's heart jump in his chest. 'I wasn't expecting that to happen.'

'What did you think I would do?' Roy asked, shifting his hand to brush his thumb across Ed's bottom lip and sucking in a breath when his caress was met with the sharp edge of teeth, a gentle bite that sparked along his nerves and leapt into an inferno when the hot swipe of Ed's tongue followed. 'Do you really think this is something I don't want?' He nudged his hips forward meaningfully, smirking when Ed swallowed tightly and struggled to bite back a groan. Both of them were aroused, hot and hard in the nest of the bed and trapped beneath the cotton of their minimal clothing. Roy took a steadying breath as he resisted the urge to roll Ed onto his back and simply lay his claim. Despite the incandescent need that arced through him, he knew there was more to what they could have than simple desire, and he had to make sure that Ed understood that.

He smiled as Ed shrugged, and for a second that familiar scowl was back on Ed's face, torn between anger and embarrassment. 'Didn't know what you might want,' he confessed. 'I mean, sex, obviously. Kind of hard to ignore what happened whenever we got close, no matter what bodies we were in but – but it's about more than that. Isn't it?' Ed grimaced, but he did not look away. At times when other lovers would have played games and fished for compliments, Ed lifted his chin and demanded answers. That alone was almost enough to make Roy think the only four letter word that had ever made him flinch.

Leaning in, he brushed the tip of his nose down the bridge of Ed's, resting his forehead against Ed's brow so that he could feel the potential between them. It had been there for so long, a tiny seed glowing like a diamond in the darkness of their antagonism, but now it had grown, flourishing ignored until the vines were wrapped around them both, pulling them together and locking them in a web of possibilities. That stupid array had turned their lives upside down for more than a day, but it had shaken loose Roy's uncertainties, delivering him to this moment in time where Ed lay in his arms, anxious and waiting for the kind of answer that could lift a heart to the heavens or dash it apart.

'It's about more than that,' Roy confirmed quietly, looking into Ed's eyes and knowing that, for all his fears, this could never be a mistake. 'It's about us -- about finding out what we're like together, and not just in bed.' He licked his lips as his heart thrashed against his ribs, driven half wild with hope. 'I'm not talking about something casual, Ed, and I don't think that's something I could agree to – not with you. I'd always want more.'

It was strangely liberating, this honesty, like laying all your cards on the table before the game had even begun, but Roy knew that Ed as unlike anyone else. He would not appreciate the coy, superficial façades that most people maintained throughout their relationship. If they started something today, then Ed would throw himself into it whole-heartedly. He would give Roy everything – body, mind, heart and soul – and if Roy could not meet the equivalent exchange, then he knew they would be doomed to fail.

'What makes you think I wouldn't want as much as you?' Ed asked quietly, and his thoughtful frown dissolved into a smile, warm and honest. 'I don't fuck about, Mustang. I want this – us – or at least to try and be an “us”.'

Ed's clumsy words could have been a sonnet to Roy, and his last doubt drifted away, leaving the heady flare of elation swelling in his chest and lighting his mind with its glow. All those months, years, even, of watching Ed and thinking that he was something unattainable, above and beyond Roy's reach. Now it turned out he had been wrong all along. 'Thank God,' he whispered, bending his head to nip gently at Ed's mouth, sealing the promise between them as Ed parted his lips and tempted Roy in for another taste.

One kiss became many: lips, teeth and tongue – mind wiped clean by the taste and scent of Ed. Gentle touches took on a teasing edge, growing clumsy as Roy peeled off Ed's vest, licking and nipping at every inch of skin he revealed. When Ed slipped his hands beneath the waistband at the back of Roy's pajama pants and _squeezed_ , all thoughts of taking things slow fled, and Roy surrendered himself to the heat that blazed between them.

Perhaps it was inevitable. Perhaps their passion had been hidden for so long and let out in fractions of anger and argument that now the dam had broken and let the torrent burst forth, but Roy was helpless to stop. Before he knew it the thin cotton of his pants and Ed's boxers had been stripped away, leaving the two of them gloriously naked. Warm skin and steel gave a shocking contrast beneath him as the sheets whispered in harmony to their movements, and Roy revelled in it.

He had seen Ed's bare body only yesterday – had been unable to restrain himself from looking when he had been locked in its confines – but that did not mean he knew all of its secrets. Now, for every touch they shared, he and Ed were learning each other. They found the places where physical pleasure and mental desire met in a fount of heat and need, sought out vulnerabilities and treasured them, rather than breaking them apart and, as they moved in the oldest dance known to man, Roy hoped he had the rest of his life to unravel the mystery that was Edward Elric.

* * *

'Fuuuuck,' Ed purred, his voice half-muffled by the pillows. He lay limp at Roy's side, his skin glossed with sweat, every muscle lax and Roy had never thought he could be any more beautiful, but Ed always took him by surprise. If he had his way, he would make sure Ed always looked that way, tousled and happy as only a sinner could be.

'I just did,' Roy murmured, grinning as Ed opened one eye to glare weakly at him, but the faint ire in his gaze soon faded as Roy reached out, tucking a strand of gold behind Ed's ear before skimming his palm down Ed's back and nuzzling his nose against Ed's temple. 'Thank you.'

'For what?' It was a lazy question, but when Roy shrugged, unable to put everything he had to be grateful for into words, Ed grinned as if he understood anyway. 'You too.'

Roy stroked a fingertip along the scandalously low line of the sheet, tracing the contours of Ed's body. Both of them needed a shower, but it was almost impossible to care about that as he admired his lover's sleepy sprawl. Propping himself up on his elbow to get a better view, Roy let his gaze trace over the silver line of the Automail, taking in the occasional white line of a scar before his gaze finally fell upon the black swirl that rested low on Ed's back. Shifting his hand, he traced the tribal curves of the rearing horse, losing himself in the soft swirl of the design.

'Why a horse?' he asked curiously, looking up as Ed sighed into the pillows before lifting his head and shooting a faintly disbelieving glance over his shoulder. 'I know Breda and Havoc chose it when you were drunk, but didn't they tell you why?'

'Yes,' Ed said slowly, and the blush on his face was a hard, bright red as Roy continued to wait for an answer. 'I nearly killed 'em both – wanted to know why they'd paid someone to permanently paint a stupid pony on my back. Turns out the design had a specific name, and the fuckers just couldn't resist. Haven't you worked it out?'

Ed sighed as Roy shook his head, eyes shut and his voice low as he muttered, 'It's not just a horse. It's a Mustang. They may as well have written your name on me.'

Roy blinked, watching Ed bury his face in the pillow again as if he was trying to hide from the world. He should have known that his men would choose something with a subtext, but he had never realised that they were so knowing. Had he and Ed been the only ones who did not realise how each other felt? Had everyone else seen it when they were still blind?

He lowered his eyes to the tattoo again, and the smirk crept across his lips before he could stop it. When he had first set eyes on the design, he thought how well it suited Ed, but now he knew it was more than just an encapsulation of Ed's wildness. It was like a brand, a claim, his name on Ed's body –and maybe it was not blatant, but it still made his stomach clench with fierce, possessive pride and the softer curl of gratitude. Ed could have had it removed: he was no stranger to pain, after all, or scars, but instead he had kept it, letting the ink stain his flesh as he watched Roy from a distance.

Gently, Roy lowered his head, pressing a kiss to the image before darting his tongue out to trace one of the lines. He felt Ed's spine tense in pleasure and saw, out of the corner of his eye, the younger man lift his head again, hair sighing around his shoulders as a shiver of pleasure worked its way through his body. 'I think I might have to give them a raise.'

Ed could move like a striking snake when he wanted to, and Roy had no time for anything but a faint gasp of surprise as Ed twisted, flipping their positions until Roy was sprawled across the mattress on his back, the sheet tangled around his legs as Ed sat astride his hips, grinning down in a way that made him look predatory: feral and breath-taking. 'Should have known you'd get smug about it,' he growled, his fingers slipping away from Roy's wrists to rest on his chest, right over the thudding of his heart.

'Do you really hate it that much?' Roy asked, reaching up to brush his thumb across Ed's cheekbone. He was not sure why the answer mattered, but some small part of him knew it was important.

A shrug lifted those mismatched shoulders and Ed wrinkled his nose as he nodded his head. 'I did when I first realised what they'd done. I guess – it just reminded me of what I thought I couldn't have.'

'And now?' Roy looked up into Ed's face, watching the faint frown smooth away as Ed leant against Roy's palm, nuzzling into it tenderly as if Roy was someone he already trusted to hold him up, rather than let him fall.

'Now there's an us, right?'

Roy shifted, his stomach muscles tightening as he pulled himself into a sitting position and moved his hand to cup Ed's chin, hold him steady and take the kiss that Ed gave so eagerly. Pleasure sparked, setting new fires alight in the embers of passion that still lingered as Roy breathed his answer against Ed's lips like wedding vow.

'Right.'

* * *

The bar was full of laughing voices as Friday night crept its way inexorably towards Saturday morning. A fire roared in the hearth, chasing away the bite of the winter wind outside and filling the room with mellow warmth. The flames made the drink in Roy's glass glow gold, and he tipped it idly from side to side as he watched Ed and Al who sat at the other side of the table. They were both drinking beer, talking and laughing as they half-argued their way through some theory, two more voices amidst the babble of his command and Central's citizens.

These days, it never took long for Ed to feel the weight of his gaze, and Roy smirked as Ed cut him a glance, one eyebrow raised and his lips twisted into a secretive smile. For Roy, Ed could wear his heart on his sleeve, and even thirteen months after they had begun this roller-coaster of a relationship, seeing that happiness was enough to make Roy's body sing. Now it was easy for Roy to put his masks aside and tip his head to one side in a silent “I love you” that made Ed's smile widen, even if he did roll his eyes and blush at the same time.

'I never thought I'd see you this happy.'

Roy looked up at Maes, who had just returned from the bar with two drinks in hand. He put one down in front of Riza, who was listening to Havoc and Breda argue over the accuracy of the latest military firearm, before settling at Roy's side and stretching his legs out. 'I take it there's no trouble in paradise?'

He shook his head, and the smile crept up on him again. 'Not at the moment, anyway. I knew it could be good, but I never quite realised...' He trailed off, taking a sip of his drink and feeling it burn all the way down. Of course, he and Ed fought, and they both fought hard, but it was a necessary facet of what they had. Besides, the make-up sex was fantastic, and forgiveness and compromise were two concepts that grew easier with practice. 'He's everything I want.'

'Took you long enough to work it out,' Maes chided gently, nudging Roy with his elbow. 'I guess what that array did to you really did change things. Was that really where it all began?'

Roy took a gulp of his drink, savouring the taste as he thought it over. He had worked with Ed for years, giving orders only to have them disobeyed as the heat shifted and changed inside him. Ed had been inappropriately young, the first time Roy had felt that unexpected twist of attraction, and as Ed grew, so did Roy's desire. Could he really say that the day they swapped bodies was the start of what now bloomed between them?

'No. That was just the first time I really saw what we could have together.' Roy smirked, looking at Ed again and seeing him in all his glory: brilliantly intelligent, stunningly beautiful and so deep and loyal in love that Roy could not imagine life without him.

'Ed always got under my skin, and I hope he always will.'

_End_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> B xxx  
> [My Tumblr](http://the-pen-pot.tumblr.com)  
> [My Sherlock Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction/works?fandom_id=133185)  
> [My Hobbit Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kingmaker/works?fandom_id=873394)  
> [My Fullmetal Alchemist Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction_FMA/works)


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